Category: Fiction Factor

The drinkery at the Ambassador in Washington, D.C., was typical of most motel watering holes. A flat screen TV hung over the bar and the lounge itself – which blended into the lobby – had five tables with a small candle situated in the middle of each one.

There was no one at the bar, so Mallory decided to grab a stool and watch the last couple of innings of the Baltimore-Boston baseball game.

“What’s your pleasure?” asked the bartender, a 60ish man with tightly curled white hair and a deeply lined face.

“Vodka and orange juice,” Mallory said. “Well brand is fine.”

Mallory’s bar routine back in Asheville, North Carolina, involved getting to Will O’ The Wisp early in the evening, where her drinking buddy Arlie would usually already be there – and be well on the way to getting lubricated.

Mallory would throw back some drinks, make the last call around 11, and spend the walk back to her apartment daydreaming about how much better her boyfriend’s life would be if she wasn’t in it.

Well, this getaway to the nation’s capital was her chance, and it was nearing its conclusion. Amidst all the planning that went into her solo trip, Mallory hadn’t really taken stock of the real reason for the “vacation.”

Yes, she had visited the Entertainment and Sports Arena to watch the Washington Mystics play the Atlanta Dream, but that was all just window dressing, really. In actuality, she was running away from what had become her home and running toward her original home.

At some point later that night, she’d go back to her hotel, send her boyfriend, Mike, a “Dear John” text, and then disappear from his life forever.

It was like entering the Federal Witness Protection Program, only she wasn’t the target of criminals – at least not in the traditional sense.

It wasn’t that she didn’t love Mike – she absolutely did. But the situation was untenable, and there was no way she could explain why; he simply wouldn’t believe her.

That was a sobering thought, and Mallory didn’t want to be sober yet.

So, one drink became two and two became six, and as the buzz kicked in, she noticed the bartender seemed to be keeping a close eye on her.
“Oh, don’t worry,” Mallory said. “I’m not driving anywhere. In fact, I’m just a couple of doors down.”

The bartender laughed.

“Good to know,” he said. “I send for a lot of cabs and I needed to make sure you were riding and not driving anywhere. My name’s Carl, by the way.”

Other than ordering drinks, Mallory had stayed quiet most of the night, but as patrons ducked in and ducked out for a quick snort, Mallory decided it might be nice to have someone to talk to.

“Nice to meet you, Carl,” Mallory said. “I’m staying here for a couple of days and got to watch a WNBA game live. I’ve grown to love basketball over the past several years, and it was nice to be at the arena to see it live.”

“Are you here by yourself?” Carl asked.

“I am,” Mallory said. “I’m from North Carolina and I’m kinda running away from home. I, uh … I just need to get away from my boyfriend. It’s for his own good.”

“Trust me … it makes sense – perfect sense,” said Carl, wiping down the counter. “I took a solo road trip myself a couple of years ago. Drove all the way to the West Coast and back, just to see the sights.”

“Cool,” Mallory said. “That had to be a lot of fun.”

Carl managed a weak smile and paused before answering.

“It was more therapeutic than anything,” Carl said. “I had just lost my wife. We had planned a cross country trip together but she died suddenly. Not unexpectedly, but suddenly.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that,” Mallory said. “I’m sure that would’ve meant a lot to her – you know, being able to travel the country with you.”

“Well, we still got to go,” Carl said. “She was cremated, so I took her with me. At every stop we’d talked about – places in Oklahoma, New Mexico, Nevada – I’d scatter some of her ashes. Thing is, she didn’t have to die … if only I’d done what you’re doing, things would’ve been different for her. ”

Mallory ordered one more drink, downed it, and laid down a 100-dollar bill.

“Thanks for your hospitality, Carl,” Mallory said. “And advice. Just keep the change.”

Carl crumpled the bill, stuffed it into his pocket and gently grabbed Mallory’s right shoulder.

“You’re doing the right thing, Mallory, even though it hurts.” he said. “Be safe … and know he’ll be well.”

Mallory nodded, and gave him a knowing wink. She then scurried out of the bar, walked out of the main door of the Ambassador, punched in coordinates on her phone, and eyed the night sky.

If things were different, she would head back to Mike immediately, give him a big, lingering hug, and tell him she loved him more than anything on earth.

And it was true – she did.

But mating with a human was the ultimate taboo on her planet, and she knew if she didn’t leave earth, the bounty hunters from Luyten b would find Mike and kill him.

Sadly, Carl – and his wife – had already been given an object lesson in how cruel interplanetary justice can be.

Clancy Meadows walked into the lobby of the Moment In Time corporate office with all his paperwork completed and, more importantly, the non-refundable amber token needed to pay for the company’s services.

An “amber” – which amounted to 100 dollars in early American currency – seemed like an extremely cheap price to pay to not only travel through time, but to change it.

But that’s what made Moment In Time so popular. While it didn’t allow extended visits to the past or future, or give clients license to completely rewrite their history, it promised to help them make one adjustment during a relatively specific point in their lives.

In the case of Clancy that point was February 28, 2087. He had been taking guitar lessons for three weeks but baseball season was approaching. If he wanted to try out for the team – and make it – the lessons would have to go.

His guitar teacher worked with him every Monday, Wednesday and Friday at 4 p.m., and those times would be in direct conflict with lessons.

So, as 10-year-olds sometimes do, he chose chasing balls in the sun rather than plucking away on a six-string.

Sixty years later, he regretted that decision.

His baseball “career” ended during his second year at Learn Camp when he took a line drive to the knee. The stiffness had only gotten worse as the years went by, and he wondered how different his life would be if he had only learned to shred the axe.

Maybe he wouldn’t have become a rock star, but then again, perhaps that’s exactly what he’d become.

So, instead of choosing baseball, he would continue his lessons.

“Hello, Mr. Meadows, is it? I’m Ross Wilbanks and I’ll be helping you.”

Wilbanks was perched behind an antique desk, and Clancy sat across from him and handed over his papers and token.

“Uh huh … yep,” Wilbanks muttered as he looked them over. “Very good. You’ve got an exact date which helps tremendously. Now, are you familiar with the procedure?”

Clancy shrugged.

“I guess so,” he said. “I assume I go into a room that has that portal thing, undo what I did, and then when I come back through, everything will have changed. I gotta say, it’s kinda creepy, though. Didn’t his building used to be a crematorium?”

Wilbanks smiled.

“It did … a long time ago. Turns out the design makes it perfect for our time travel apparatus,” he said. “Anyway, when you come back through the portal, you’ll have no idea what happened. In fact, chances are, you’ll freak out a bit. So, what we do is inject you with a sedative almost immediately and put you in a recovery room. You’ll be out for 90 minutes to an hour and when you come to, we’ll have an associate there to explain who you are and what you went through.”

Clancy frowned.

“Explain who I am?” he asked. “You mean I’m not gonna have any memory of this life? What about my wife and kids? And friends.”

Wilbanks grabbed the token and began rolling it with his fingers.

“Mr. Meadows, time travel is extremely complex,” he said. “So many people seem to think they can relive their life, yet still maintain memories from a life they already lived. Think about it … if you change the arc of your life, this – you right here, right now – won’t exist. The person who comes back through the portal will be the person who made the decision to play guitar, not play baseball. Will you marry the same woman? I have no idea. Will you have kids? Maybe, maybe not.”

“But,” Clancy said, “if I don’t marry the same woman, I won’t have the same kids. Are you saying there’s a chance my kids won’t exist if I go back?”

Wilbanks raised his eyebrows.

“Well, yes,” he said. “That’s one of the by-products of time travel. It’s not just your time that changes, it’s everyone you interacted with. But look at it this way, if your kids are never born, it’s not like they’ll miss being alive. Plus, how cool will it be to know you chased the dream you should’ve chased to begin with? You might even find out you’re famous and wealthy.”

Clancy stood up and began rubbing his forehead.

“I can’t do this,” he said. “I didn’t realize … I didn’t think about how this might affect other people. Just throw the paperwork away. And since the token is non-refundable, I’m just gonna chalk it up to a lesson learned. Goodbye.”

Wilbanks watched his client leave the building before pressing the small button beneath his desk.

“Telford,” he said. “How many tokens have we collected today?’

There was a slight pause.

“Looks like … 47. No … 48.”

“Not bad. Not bad at all. Did anybody go through with it?

“Just one guy. I gave him every opportunity to walk away but he was determined.”

Wilbanks sighed.

“OK. Well, just incinerate the body and tell whoever he listed as a contact that he chose not to return from the past. You know, Telford, one of these days people might just get wise to the fact that time travel isn’t a thing. Until then, I’m just gonna keep counting the tokens.

“You ready for lunch? I could eat.”

Lenny looked out the window of his Level 73 unit and stared at the thousands of people gathered below. The funeral of Commander Shake was being broadcast live across the globe, and many in Pewter City chose to watch on the giant, 3D image replicator in the city’s center.

Commander Shake – the moniker this alien superhero had been given many years earlier – was dead. Whether it was due to a battle with the Lepidosaurians, a reptilian race of extraterrestrial assassins, or absorption of radiation from the many nuclear missiles he had exploded in space to prevent catastrophe, no one knew.

His lifeless body had been delivered to the amphitheater at Pewter City by his AI hovercraft, with instructions on how the funeral would be performed provided by a bright orange, cueball-sized orb that followed the Commander like a dragonfly.

Lenny remembered when he encountered the alien 20 years earlier. A strong line of tornadoes was headed for the heart of Pewter City, and Commander Shake was able to divert them into the clouds – causing them to disappear into harmless puffs of air.

As the danger passed and he floated down toward the spectators on the ground, Commander Shake liked to greet people and shake their hands – hence his name. A humanoid creature who never explained who he was or where he came from, he wore a suit that looked to be composed of azure-colored steel. His eyes glowed yellow and his lips – thin and black – would appear only when he spoke.

And as Lenny – a “street stray” as unhoused kids like him were called – stood in awe, the planet’s prime protector walked toward him, kneeled down, and extended his right hand.

Lenny shook it, and saw sparks of electricity crackling up Commander Shake’s arm.

Lenny recalls feeling a slight shock when he clasped hands with his hero, but was too mesmerized to pay it much mind. What stood out more than anything, though, was what the Commander said to him:

“You’ll make me proud someday.”

It was a bittersweet memory on a very sad day, and the days would surely become sadder.

And soon.

Without a guardian, what would become of Earth?

There was already chatter that the Lepidosaurians were preparing for another invasion, and this time there would be no Commander Shake to stop them. Plus, new threats were popping up everywhere, waiting patiently to attack an undefended planet.

As for Lenny, well, the thrill he felt when Commander Shake spoke him long ago had faded into shame and embarrassment.

There was so much chaos in his brain he could never stick with any job – or relationship – and his favorite form of self-medication came from a distillery.

That’s why he was in Level 73 housing, which was basically sleeping quarters that came with two boxed meals per day. He was called upon by officials from the Conglomerate of Nations only when odd jobs were required, and he feared that no jobs would be required after the Lepidosaurians were done.

Dignitaries gathered to speak words of praise about the Commander. When they completed their eulogies, his coffin was placed in the hovercraft, which now acted as a rocket.

Silently, the craft shot toward the heavens, and just as it began to fade from sight it exploded in a spray of light and color.

While the pyrotechnics were pleasing to the eye, most of those watching the event couldn’t help but think this was the end – not just the end of Commander Shake, but the end of the world.

Lenny – whose neck was starting to ache – had stared at the craft from the time it launched to the time it disintegrated, and there was nothing left to see.

Except …

As looked out over the horizon, he could see projectiles coming toward Pewter City. They weren’t the Lepidosaurians – that much he could tell – but he feared they were a vanguard of some other malevolent force coming in hot to take advantage of Commander Shake’s demise.

As he squinted to make them out, the buzzer to his unit sounded, prompting him to go to the door.

Surely he wasn’t being called into work with an attack imminent.

As he waved his hand to open the portal, he was greeted by an orange orb fluttering at eye level.

On the floor was a small box.

“Greetings, Lenny,” said a voice coming from the sphere. “Please place your right hand on the box.”

Lenny didn’t know if this was the same orb that always accompanied Commander Shake, but it looked identical. And while he had no idea what was in the box, he didn’t hesitate to follow instructions.

The moment he made contact, sparks of electricity crackled up his arm and the box opened. In it was an azure suit.

“The planet is in danger, Lenny. Commander Shake shook your hand for a reason, just as he shook the hands of all those who are now converging on Pewter City for a reason.”

Lenny turned to spy an army of “commanders” outside of Level 73.

He smiled.

“So,” he asked the orb. “What do I do now?”

“You suit up. Commander Shake said you’d make him proud someday. This is that day.”