by N R Brooks
It would be a matter of months before I would get my plan fleshed out and on paper. By September, I desperately wanted to leave this place for good. Not because I was foaming at the mouth to finally get my plan under way, but the death of my parents would occur in only a few weeks. That was not something I wanted to live through again. No matter how unfortunate that was, my parents wouldn’t leave me hanging. A few days before their tragic death, they had bought a car for my sixteenth birthday and had cleverly hidden it in the garage without me ever knowing. Being somewhat of a hoarder—at least with keys—I still had the key to that car on my key ring in my pocket. Hell, I had keys on my keyring that were probably over twenty years old whose functions I had no recollection of. I could quietly take the car under the cover of night and leave before my younger self knew anything happened.
I also knew that my younger self had a stash of money in his closet that he had been saving for the past few years. I would have to take that to ensure my ride to Florida. He would be left with more than enough money in the bank so losing a thousand dollars would not do him any harm. To be honest, I couldn’t even recall what I actually did with that money in my own timeline. It clearly wasn’t that important. I doubt it would cause any long-term effects.
The rest of the planning was simply struggling to recall certain dates and locations where I could either sabotage the hijackers’ plans or possibly take them out. I resolved that I would not kill anybody. No matter how much these men might deserve it after knowing the effects their actions would have not just in America, but the world, I didn’t want blood on my hands. However, that did not rule out beating or torture if it came to it. I just did not want to take any lives. That would be my rule to myself.
With the basic framework of my plan in place, I only had to wait the remaining weeks until I could take the money and the car from my younger counterpart, and say goodbye to Idaho. I didn’t know where I would end up when everything was said and done, but I knew it would be a while before I would be coming back.
I decided I would leave everything in my trusty shack for some other unfortunate soul to use. It was the least I could do. I would take my backpack with my clothes and anything I would truly need. The coming weeks would be difficult for me. Knowing when your family is going to be taken from you and not being able to do anything about it is harder than having them ripped from you without prior knowledge. You may be asking yourself, if you are going to save the nearly three thousand people on September 11th, why won’t you save your parents too? Well, that is a good question. I didn’t exactly know what the results of my actions will be. I do know that saving my parents will directly interfere with my own past where preventing 9/11 will not. With my parents still around, my entire life would be altered and who knows what would happen to the me that is here right now? I didn’t want to risk it.
As much as I want to save my parents, I just could not see how the risk was worth it. It would be the hardest decision of my entire life. But at least this time I could give them a proper good-bye.
The act of acquiring the money from my room and taking the car would be a rather easy one. I could take care of both while my younger self was at the police station after being notified of the accident with our parents. But first, I wanted to give them a proper goodbye as a way of providing myself at least a bit of closure. This would be the last time I would see them alive. It was the least I could do.
The morning of the accident, I wrote a short letter that I would leave on the windshield of their car before they left the house for the final time. I knew they had blamed themselves for the significant drop in progress and change in personality in my younger self since the breakup with Alexis. I had to clear that up for them first and foremost. And I figured I owe it to them to let them know before they left this world that they were the greatest parents a kid could ask for.
The letter read:
Mom and Dad,
I know I haven’t been the best son, especially lately.
My grades have dropped and I have been distant from everyone, even you. For that, I apologize. I just want you to know that none of it is your fault. I have gone through some changes in my life in the past few months which have affected me deeply. But I just want you to know, you are the greatest parents any kid could ask for. Please do not blame yourselves. You both deserve much better than I have given. I know my life will only get more difficult in the years to come, but please know that I will always love you and that will never change. If anything happens to any of us, just know that you will always have a special place in my heart. I love you two more than you can ever know.
Your son, Stan
It was impossible for me to write anything without breaking down into sobs. Nobody should ever have to do this.
The letter, now stained with more than a few tears, was folded and placed under the windshield wiper in plain sight so they could not miss it. I walked over to the front window of the house to peek inside and take one last glance at the two people I have missed every single day for the past nearly twenty years.
After wiping my tears away, I walked back to my bike and rode off knowing I would never see them again. I would only have to wait until evening to come back and take the money and car and head for a place I had never been before. I only hoped I could keep my composure while doing so.
After leaving my parents’ house, I wanted to treat myself to a proper meal to take my mind off the events that would occur in only a few hours time. But upon arriving at the restaurant I had chosen, I simply did not have an appetite. I couldn’t go back to my shack as I had already packed up everything I needed which was currently strapped to my back. I still had time to kill and needed to remain focused and calm for the burglary I was going to commit later.
I scratched eating off the mental list I had begun to create in my head. Knowledge of today’s sad events was just too much for my stomach to handle. I thought about reading at the library, but again, I doubt I would be able to focus on any sort of literature with my mind struggling just to keep the rest of my body from breaking down.
Little did I know the act of simply trying to decide on something to do to kill time ended up being the very thing that killed some of that time. I sat on a bench outside of the restaurant that I had earlier changed my mind about and thought for a good while about what to do with little success. Instead, I sat there listening to music on my headphones and counted how many people would walk by that I could still recognize.
I had been in my own past now for almost ten months, and the entire time, I never got used to it. Seeing people that I remember from twenty years ago in the same form as they were in my mind was something you just don’t get used to. Remembering the fact that those individuals are teenagers while you are in your mid-thirties is something that frequently escapes your mind. It becomes quite confusing. In a small town like this, you end up recognizing quite a few of the people you pass by. It just comes with the territory.
When I had my share of people watching, I felt somewhat more focused on my plans and less so on the impending despair of the fate of my parents in only a few hours. My appetite had finally come back to me. I felt it was time to get at least a little bit of something in my stomach, even though the probability of it ending up in a foamy pile on the ground later was rather high. Nevertheless, I went in and ordered some food.
I tried to keep my order simple but found my appetite had other plans. I couldn’t remember when I had last eaten, but it must have been a while ago. I ordered a double cheeseburger with extra mustard and extra pickles and a large order of french fries. I ended up devouring it all with room to spare. I just hoped I could keep my mind clear so that I wouldn’t have to taste the food again, post-digestion.
By now, only a couple hours remained until that fateful moment on the Canyon Bridge. My younger self would be notified within thirty minutes of what happened. At that point, it would be dark outside within another hour. Not completely dark, but the sun would be below the horizo
n which was good enough for me. Now would be a good time to pick up some travel items for the long drive to the east.
I went to the nearest department store to pick up an atlas of the US for the drive and an emergency kit for the car in case of a flat tire or any other emergency. Might as well be prepared for the worst. I took my time in the store since I had nothing better to do and was simply killing time.
My final stop of the evening would be the very park that my breakup with Alexis took place. At this time it was fairly empty. A few local children were running around and playing on some of the park equipment, but they were no bother to me. I spent the remaining time looking at the atlas I purchased and plotted the best route to where I wanted to go. I remembered that none of the hijackers would show up in the US until the beginning of 2000 which meant even if I headed east now, I would have nothing to do until January at the earliest. The problem with that was the two men who would arrive here would show up in California. That would be no good.
I would just have to ignore them as they wouldn’t cause anything to happen anyways. Their ineptitude would cause them to fail at any sort of flight training, and they would leave again later on anyways. That gave me even more time before I could jump into action with my plan. Mohamed Atta and Marwan al-Shehhi wouldn’t even come to the US until the middle of the year. I couldn’t remember any specific dates, just that it would be sometime in either May, June, or July.
Once they arrived, I did know they would go down to Venice, Florida and attend flight school there. This gave me at least a year of time to kill. I decided that instead of going straight to Florida, I would head to New York for a while and see if I could bump into the girl I had found online, Keiko Miller. Who knows, maybe I could get to know her. The idea filled me with excitement for the first time today.
That excitement was interrupted by the sound of a car screeching out of the driveway of the house I was preparing to burgle. Sure enough, it was almost eight o’clock. It had finally happened. Once that realization hit, I was floored by immense despair.
My parents had died, for the second time in my life. I could feel the muscles tightening in my throat and tears pooling in my eyes but I had to keep it together. Knowing that they had to die a second time was too much to handle, and I could not hold myself together any longer. I wept until I felt that I finally had to get the job over with. It was time.
I walked my bike across the street and towards the end of the block to my house. My habit of never getting rid of keys made it so I was able to enter through the back door with ease. I did not want to stay long as everything around me reminded me of what had just taken place. I simply wanted to go to my room, find the money stashed in the closet and get out. Upon swiping the cash, I saw a wallet-sized picture of a younger me and my parents. I decided to take that with me just as a reminder. I was sure there were others in the house my younger self could use.
I had what I came for, now I was ready to get the car and leave. I locked the house back up and went into the garage to see the car with a sheet over it. It was a used car, but I loved it all the same. It was a 1996 black Dodge Neon with a manual transmission. I remember how much I loved this car when I first got it. My parents had already registered it and had the plates on just waiting to see my smile when I took my first look at it. Sadly, they would never get to see it. And my younger self would never get the car.
I took the cover off the car, stuffed my bike in the back seat, opened the garage door and drove the car out. My younger self would never know the car was there. I closed the garage door, got back in the car and took one last look at the house. I had no idea when I would see the house again. I took a deep breath and drove off to begin my journey to the east. My destination was New York City.
After filling the car with fuel, I drove across the Canyon Bridge which was closed on one side due to the accident that happened only a few hours earlier. Traffic was now reduced to one side and one lane for incoming and outgoing. I kept my eyes straight ahead vowing not to look at the destruction caused by the semi that took my parents with it. My focus was on getting out of Canyon as quickly as possible. But not before muttering one thing as I departed the town I grew up in.
“Goodbye…mom and dad….”
Chapter 8
Driving just over twenty-three hundred miles alone is really not as bad as it sounds. It is nearly a straight drive the entire way; at least once you hit I-80 just outside of Ogden, Utah. Nearly two thousand miles on the same strip of road, it doesn’t get much easier than that. Although the first half of the trip is horribly uneventful. Literally, until you cross the border into Illinois, it is nothing but cornfields, wheat fields, and flatness to stare at. The exception to that being the state of Wyoming which is really not any better.
Normally a trip like this would take two to three days depending on if you plan on sight-seeing, taking extra rest stop breaks or eating at one of the many diners along the way. Mine took slightly longer as anytime a migraine would start up I would have to pull over and wait for it to finish. Even in my original timeline I never drove out of the state of Idaho. A homebody like me has no need to venture far outside of his personal bubble. So this all was an entirely new experience for me.
It came as a total surprise when the first migraine started up just when I crossed the Idaho-Utah border. It was close to midnight, and I thought I would attempt to keep driving. I scratched that idea quickly as it was much like driving while completely shit-faced drunk. That would be the only attempt to drive while a migraine was in full swing.
During the drive, they seemed to come on much more frequently than usual. I guessed it had something to do with the rapid movement of my surroundings while driving 70-80mph all day. Add the multiple daily stops for my head to clear on top of the stops for gas, nightly stops to catch some sleep, and the occasional sight-seeing of any points of interest that were along the route and my trip ended up taking just a little over five days total.
Again, like I said, there is not much in the way of anything exciting until you cross into Illinois. That is unless flat bland nothingness is your thing. It is not mine. The beautiful forests of Illinois were a nice change although rather patchy. They at least broke up the large stretches of flat farmland. I did not enjoy the lower speed limits as that just seemed to add additional time to the trip. I didn’t mind that much though as the scenery more than made up for it.
Driving through the suburbs of Chicago was less enjoyable with its many cloverleaf road configurations and loops. I nearly got lost outside of Gary, Indiana as I almost missed a turn I needed to stay on the interstate. For someone who never really left their small Idaho town, this was an immensely intimidating part of the trip. I was worried just how much worse New York City would be. I decided I would stick to either subways or busses.
I did take a slight detour in Sandusky, Ohio since it was the closest I would get to any of the Great Lakes. It was nice to wander around and take a quick dip in the water. I learned of some parks on the northern tip of the city that jutted out into the lake. I toured a maritime museum and looked at some shipwreck exhibits. It was mildly entertaining, but I couldn’t shake the anxiety of needing to get to New York. So, I made my stay in Sandusky short and got back on the interstate to continue east.
The eastern border of Ohio proved to be another intimidating feat of driving for me to overcome. Luckily I stayed focused on all of the traffic billboards and avoided any mistakes. Anytime I got near any heavily populated areas with multiple exits my knuckles were almost snow white from gripping the steering wheel. The rest of the trip after that would be rolling forested hills through the geologically fascinating state of Pennsylvania. To my disappointment, I had hoped to be able to venture down into the Shanksville area of the state, but that would have been too much of a detour for my liking. Besides, it isn’t like there would be anything to see at this point anyway. Still, it would have been interesting for someone like me who knew the significance of the area before anything
happened. Maybe after I take care of everything, I’ll make it a point to check the area out.
When I finally made it into New Jersey, I had to make plans on where I would stay. At this point in my trip, I was exhausted from all the driving and wanted someplace with an actual bed to crash. I had never been to a city this large before and wanted to keep myself as close as possible to the freeway. I decided to stay at a cheap Motel 6 right outside of the Newark airport. I would have to know this area well as I may have to come through here again since Flight 93 departs from this very place. It was only about fifteen miles from the motel I would be staying at tonight. I didn’t exactly know what I wanted to do. I decided to play it by ear.
If I got enough rest maybe I would go out and view the city tomorrow. For now, I paid for two nights then took a nice hot shower. My car held up nicely with no issues whatsoever. I wished I could thank my parents for the car.
After the shower, I laid down on the bed and turned on the TV. I don’t even remember if I chose a channel or what was even playing. Before I knew it, I was out like a light.
It turned out I was much more tired than I had thought. It also turned out that paying for two days at the motel was a good idea as I slept nearly nonstop until way past when I would have had to check out the next day. When I initially arrived, it was a little after 6pm, and I was probably asleep before my head even hit the pillow, which was closer to 730-8. Except having to get up a few times to empty a bladder that was close to rupturing, I slept until 2pm the next day. In the past, I would occasionally be awoken by a middle of the night headache, but not last night. Whether I had one, I could not say. It is very possible that I could have slept through it. I was that tired.