by N R Brooks
I wandered over to one of the two computers they had that gave Internet access. In 1998, the Internet was widespread but still not quite at the level it is in 2018 or even five years from now. In contrast to library computers in my time, you didn’t even have to log in to the computers. Security sure has changed over the years. I sat down at the computer and clicked on an old familiar icon that people once used to access the Internet. Anybody born after the new millennium probably isn’t familiar with the idea of having to manually connect to the Internet each time you wanted to use it. Once I clicked on the “dial” button another hint of nostalgia hit me. The good old sound of a 56k modem giving its electronic handshake to the ISP servers. That was a sound I had not heard in a very long time. Some people might have found it obnoxious, but to me, it was a fond memory.
The feeling of fondness quickly ended when I realized the difference between the Internet of my day and the Internet of the past where I now resided. I had forgotten how incredibly sloooowwww it was. Or I had just never noticed in my teenage years since it was all I knew at the time. No more were the days of clicking on a hyperlink and having a page load near instantaneously. No, you had to wait for the border of the web-page to load, then a slow cascade of information loaded beginning from the top and slowly scrolling towards the bottom of the screen. It made me think of how impatient our kind had become twenty years from now. Everybody expected everything at the snap of a finger because compared to how it was in the past, that is how most things seemed to feel.
When I had found a site that offered online applications—this was still new in 1998—I promptly filled out the application using my real information; name, address, social security number, etc. Details such as income and rent/house payments I fabricated since as far as I knew, that information was less important. After waiting for a minute or two for the results to appear via the rapid transmission speeds of a 56k modem, I was pleased to see that I had been approved for $1000 credit line and the card should arrive in five to seven days. Until then I would be living on chicken sandwiches paid for by the hard work of can collecting. It could be much worse. I closed out the browser window and disconnected the computer from the Internet.
Part of me wanted to stick around and burn some time reading some books since I was in the best place to do that. But my growling stomach was protesting and suggested that I had more urgent matters to attend to. Once again I bowed to the will of my internal organs. Since I was on the other side of town, I might as well see what I could find for cans. I walked out of the Library, thankful that nobody had approached me, and set out for the somewhat familiar alley-ways of Canyon to see what aluminum goods I could find. It had only been a day, and I already found myself craving something other than dollar menu chicken sandwiches.
Chapter 4
By New Year’s Eve, I found myself getting quite eager for something to do to pass the time. I had already grown sick of collecting cans for the meager amount of money I got from it. The reward was nowhere near worth the effort. Although, I was planning on doing some extra can collecting this evening since it was New Year’s Eve. Plenty of folks would be up into the wee hours celebrating the new year by overindulging in copious amounts of alcohol. Again, I planned to hit the trailer parks. Upper-class families most likely go for more expensive liquors and/or wines. I figured I would leave those neighborhoods for the other folks in the shelter. The trailer parks were mine for the taking.
I made sure to stuff my pockets with extra bags as tonight would definitely require multiple trips to various trailer courts. Also on my mind was the credit card I was waiting for in the mail. I knew I wouldn’t receive it for another week at least. In the meantime, I scrounged up extra bags of cans the in last few days to purchase some extra clothing, a cheap pair of sunglasses, and a backpack to keep my belongings in. All of this was found for dirt cheap at various second-hand thrift stores around town. At least now I was able to conceal my face a bit without looking suspicious—some folks look at you oddly when you have a blanket wrapped around parts of your face when in public. Plus, I was able to change my clothes. The ones I had on were starting to get rather ripe smelling.
On days I knew nobody was home, I would walk into the house my parents and younger self lived in and take a quick shower. Doing laundry would take too long, so I didn’t risk that. Only one change of clothes was cheap to wash at the laundromat. I could easily have washed my clothes by hand, but I just didn’t want to. A dollar in quarters wasn’t hard to come by with recycling cans. Also, there was usually something to read at the laundromat to pass the time—although it usually required sifting through a mountain of Watchtower pamphlets.
Tonight, I waited until after midnight to collect my goods. Most people got the heavy partying started once the new year hit. I knew by then they would have gone through at least one case of beer and would be starting on another one or just hitting the booze. I slipped on my backpack, stuffed extra bags in it just in case I needed them, and set out to do my rounds.
It turned out that my plan was right on the money. Within the first hour, I had enough bags for extra chicken sandwiches. I raked in a little over four dollars in my first round, a fortune for can collecting. I had decided to splurge, and instead of getting the usual sandwiches I had grown extremely tired of, I upgraded to a gourmet burger. It was less food overall, but the mixture of textures and flavors made my taste buds happy. I didn’t care if the cooks at the fast food joint were irritated with my 1:30am arrival on New Year’s Day; it was their own fault for being open. I was just glad to finally have something new to eat.
I didn’t stop at one trip. Many people would be partying well into the morning, so I took advantage of their poor choices and profited from it. All together I raked up close to another ten dollars by 3am. But that was when the fun stopped. As I was setting out for yet another round of some neighborhoods I hadn’t yet ventured into, I heard a couple people yelling. I knew that I should mind my own business and that was what I did until the yelling turned into screaming. The screaming was coming from a woman who immediately put me into fight or flight mode.
I dropped the bag I was holding and ran towards the sound of the screaming. I arrived at was looked like a small park in town, one that I was not familiar with. It must not exist anymore in my time.
When I got there, I looked around for the source of the screaming. It was coming from one of the terraces with the bolted down camp tables. I suspected that a couple had just gotten into an argument and it escalated until it became physical. However, when I finally got close enough to realize what was happening, I immediately became overwhelmed with rage. The woman was screaming because she was being raped on the park bench by a man much larger than her. He was also significantly larger than I was. At this point, I had completely forgotten where—or when—I was, and the idea of interfering with the lives of others had taken a back seat to chivalry.
“Get the hell off of her, right now!” I screamed at the male figure. It was apparent I had not arrived soon enough because by the time I yelled at him the man was already violently thrusting into the woman, hitting her in an attempt to quiet her down.
When the man heard me yelling at him, he ceased his powerful thrusts and turned around to look at me.
“Who the fuck are you?” He asked not even caring that his rock solid dick was standing straight out from his zipper, pointing directly at me. The man was obviously piss-drunk.
“Leave her alone. In case you hadn’t noticed, she isn’t exactly enjoying what you are doing to her.”
“Like I give a shit! She’s screaming because she loves it. Now get the fuck out of here before I break your face and skull-fuck you.” He said with a heavy slur. As he said it, he began to walk towards me. He was either unaware that his dick was still hanging out or he simply didn’t care. That is when I saw him much more clearly. A drunken shit-kicker with an overgrown mustache and a hilarious mullet. Even in 1998, this was a horrible, out of date hair-do.
�
�Look, man, I didn’t come here to fight. Just let the woman go and go back to your house and get the hell out of here.” I said taking one step back every time he stepped forward.
“Come here, son. I ain’t gonna hurt ya.”
“I don’t usually rush into the arms of a drunk asshole with his dick hanging out.” I said as I looked around to see where the woman went. I didn’t see her anywhere.
“Get over here you little—” He said before being cut off by the sound of the woman he was raping just a moment before. Evidently, when I interrupted the shit-kicker mid-coitus, she took it upon herself to take off and somehow grab a bat, most likely from the vehicle she, or both of them, arrived in.
“You motherfucker! I hate you!” The woman screamed right as she swung the bat and scored a perfect home-run on the tip of the man’s dick, bending it in two and clearly tearing everything held inside the penile skin.
That was when I got a better look at her. She had to be no more than fifteen or sixteen years old. This was definitely bad.
The shit-kicker let out a scream that could rival the woman’s earlier screams in pitch as he dropped to the ground in obvious agony. The woman didn’t stop at the single swing to the crotch. She managed to get a good swing into the man’s ribs before I intervened by grabbing the bat. By this point, I had realized just what had taken place and began to fear the repercussions of my intervention.
“Whoa there, I think you got him good the first time,” I said as I eased the bat out of her hands. “I’ll take this. You go call the police and tell them what went on here. But don’t mention me, okay? I shouldn’t even be here.”
“Let me kill him goddammit! This piece of shit has been raping me for years.” She said as she began to sob uncontrollably.
“I know, I know. Look, I have to get out of here. Just hurry and call the police so they can get this man some help and I promise this won’t happen to you again. You fucked him up enough already. Now go!” I said to try and get her moving. I really had to leave before anything else happened that I might get tangled into.
I looked at the man on the ground cupping his crotch, half moaning and half crying. I hadn’t noticed while I was trying to calm the woman down but the man had clearly vomited a good amount of the alcohol that he had consumed earlier. I just had to shake my head and ran away in the direction that would lead me back to the shelter.
I tossed the bat in a dumpster halfway back to the shelter. I didn’t know if it would be used as evidence that might lead back to me. I didn’t want to risk it. I figured my New Years adventure had come to a quick end, and it was time to go back to my little pew-bed and wait for morning to come.
After disposing of the bat, I walked the rest of the way home. When my adrenaline had finally flushed its way out of my system, I finally realized that I had seriously interfered with something that took place in my past. How much have I changed? Everything around me seemed normal. No earthquakes, no catastrophic disasters taking over the world. Nothing was out of the ordinary. Was I free to interact more freely without any risk of disaster? This would be on my mind for the rest of the night until I finally was able to lie down in my pew and fall back into dreamless sleep.
Chapter 5
I made sure to lay low for the next few days after New Years. I made it a point to remain isolated and have as little human interaction as possible. While doing so, I remained cognizant of my surroundings to see if the New Year’s morning incident had any effect on anything around me. As far as I could tell, nothing had changed at all. After recalling everything that took place, I made a genuine attempt to feel sorry for the shit-kicker with the broken dick, but to no avail. I winced at the thought of the bat smashing the man’s crotch, but at the same time, I felt like justice had been served. I resolved to never think about that event again as the thought of any penis being smashed and destroyed like last night made my crotch ache.
My lack of interaction made it so I was able to eat even less than I had been before New Year’s Day. By now, my body had grown accustomed to the significant decrease in sustenance intake, so hunger pains were a thing of the past. Still, I was desperately craving something, even a chicken sandwich. I hoped that the credit card would arrive today. I almost considered praying. Almost.
As I walked to the old house where my family and my other self lived, I carefully scouted the area to make sure none of them were around. Both of my parents’ cars were gone, and if my other self was in the house, he/I was probably still in the bedroom sleeping. I dashed over to the mailbox and looked inside and lo and behold, the unmarked envelope that could only be a credit card. To make sure it was truly mine, I made sure it was addressed to me and not one of my parents. I quickly tore open the envelope and took out the glossy new card and put it in my pocket.
Satisfied that no catastrophe was about to claim the lives of myself or anyone else around me, I immediately activated the card via payphone and went to the nearest ATM to withdraw some hard cash. I withdrew the maximum cash advance amount of $400 and would use the remainder of the card before resorting to cash. I might as well get the most I can out of the card before someone finds out and cancels it. I was thankful for once that I was not in the present time. In this time period, nobody had touchscreen phones with instantaneous notifications of bank activity or fraud detection. It would probably be months before they found out. Still, I wanted to get the things I need as soon as possible, just in case. It was time to finally go shopping.
Since I had already used can collecting money to buy myself a backpack and an extra pair of clothes, it was now time to spoil myself with some actual good food for a change—good meaning delicious, not necessarily healthy. I finally had some money, but I still knew I had to be economical with it. Although I had long abandoned my sense of frugality from my younger years, I still knew how to do it. It is like riding a bike; you never forget how. And what is the best way to get the most food for cheap? That’s right. The buffet.
My love for Chinese food goes back a long way. Canyon had a superb Chinese buffet that was relatively cheap and exquisite to boot. Also, it was fairly close to the shelter I was staying at. Add to the fact that going twenty years in the past makes everything seem even cheaper, I was more than happy to give them my not-so-hard earned cash.
I jogged all the way to the Chinese buffet just to make sure I burned off any left-over food that my body might have in it to digest. This was probably pointless as it felt like days since I had eaten. I honestly couldn’t remember when I actually did eat last. I hoped nobody in there would recognize me. I had been in this period for about two weeks now, and in that time I had grown a significant amount of facial hair. That reminded me that I would have to buy some grooming supplies so I could at least look half-way decent. A beard would help with disguising myself from other people who might know me. That would have to come after the food.
When I arrived at the buffet, I had a good sweat going and was breathing pretty hard. I hadn’t had a work out like that for quite a while. I was prepared to engorge myself with enough food to feed an army. I walked in the restaurant and wiped the sweat from my face. It actually had not been long since I had been in here. I frequented it once in a while in my own time. It looked almost exactly the same. Some places never really change. I recognized the young girl at the register. She was a girl I went to school with but a year or two older.
My facial hair must have worked as she didn’t give any hints of recognizing me. After paying the flat rate to get in, another girl walked me to my booth. She showed me where I could sit, I said thanks, and before even sitting down I paced over to the buffet line to get my mountain of delicious diarrhea fuel.
As I grabbed my first plate, I stared at the delectable food with glazed eyes. Everything looked so good I couldn’t decide what to put on my plate first.
This particular buffet had one item that I never grew loathsome of. The peanut chicken was to die for. One cannot simply take a single scoop of this item; it can only be de
voured in heaps. It was an unwritten law. This rule would also apply to the sushi. That would have to take up the second half of my plate along with a little bowl of dipping sauce.
As I filled my plate and sat down at my booth all by myself, I immediately shoveled food into my mouth like a ravenous beast. Stomach cramps or not, I was determined to stuff my guts to their maximum capacity. As I filled my mouth faster than I could chew and swallow the food, nearly choking on a piece of peanut chicken, I overheard a couple who was sitting in the booth behind me. They were whispering loudly at each other and sounded as if they were arguing. I wanted to just mind my own business and focus on the delicious cuisine in front of me, but my curiosity got the best of me as the arguing seemed to be escalating. I quickly swallowed what was left in my mouth and sat still to see if I could eavesdrop on what was being said.
“What do you mean you weren’t talking to him? I sat and watched you.”
“He just commented on my hair, that’s all. I just said thanks and answered his question. That’s all, I swear.”
The couple was definitely arguing. And over another guy, it seemed. Arguments like these were all too familiar. They sounded like the thing I would yell at Alexis about when we were dating.
“Bullshit, you were checking the dude out. I know how you act when you are flirting. You get that smile and that weird giggle. You probably want to go run off and fuck him too, huh?”
As the argument between the two heated up, so did their voices. The male’s voice sounded awfully familiar to me, but I just couldn’t quite place it. The more I thought about it, the female’s voice sounded familiar too.