Out of Time, Ryan Matthew Harker [drm ebook reader TXT] 📗

went to the river last weekend, and Tuesday morning I started taking yoga, you know yoga right? Yeah, I decided I need to become more limber, I felt like I was getting too tight and you know what they say, right?”

And on and on and on, Staci’s a great girl and all but man she can talk up a storm. It’s one of the reasons I finally dumped her, well actually the only reason. I mean come on, when your girlfriend can put you to sleep just by speaking. Seriously, one time we were sitting on the couch, I was holding her, she was talking away and wham! I was waking up to an elbow in the ribs.

To be fair to myself it had been late, I’d had a hard day at work, a solid meal sat in my gut, and I was feeling fairly sedate but hey, still…it was while listening to her endless monotone that I fell asleep.

Interrupting Staci I open the door and ask, “Stace I’m starving, would you like to join me for a meal?”

Her eyes widen as my offer slips past her blonde locks and penetrates the blonde of her mind. She looks up at the restaurant’s elaborate sign and back to me.

“With you?”

I nod impatiently.

“I’m going in, join me if you want.” Hunger is the only thing driving my brain. I don’t really care what she’s doing so I enter the relaxing atmosphere of the dimly lit coziness. The smell of the place is like heaven and I shed the last vestiges of the ancient forest with a deep sigh of contentment. In this one moment I can almost forget I have a time machine. Almost. The thought tries to invade my conscious but I push it away and concentrate on the food smells wafting throughout the room.

Staci is close behind so the hostess seats us both and as I slip into a plush booth I allow my attention to return to the words tumbling from Staci’s lips.

“…and this place is so nice! Like wow, I can’t believe I’m eating here. I’ve always wanted to eat here but never had the opportunity. Isn’t it weird how things work out? Who would have thought that when I did eat here it would be with you. I never thought we would ever go out again but…”

I interrupted her again. I had no choice. “Stace, Stace! Please,” I raised my hands in a gesture of ‘whoa’. “I’ve had a very, very strange day so if you could gimme maybe five minutes of silence so I can try to digest some of it, I would really appreciate it.” I lay my head back and massage my temples.

“Are you…? Staci begins but I quickly raise a hand for silence. It’s not that her voice isn’t an acceptable level of quiet it’s just I know what she’d been about to ask and to be honest I’m unsure as to whether I’m all right or not. It’s easier to just rub my temples and let my thoughts go where they will.

The waiter demolishes my beautiful silence with a bored request for our orders. I don’t move and since I haven’t looked at the menu I let Staci order for the both of us. This makes her doubly ecstatic, once for being able to speak again and twice for being able to order for me. Continuing my meditation as best I can, I hear her poring over the menu trying to decide what meal best suits me. She oos and ahs for quite a few moments before she finally settles on a 16oz T-Bone, baked potato, mixed vegetables, garlic bread, with beer-cheese soup and a blue cheese smothered garden fresh salad. I’ll say this for the woman she picked up a few of my favorites during the short time we were dating.

After the waiter leaves she tries again, “Davey are you all right?” (See, I told you.)

All the thoughts racing through my head come to an abrupt halt, like a locomotive hitting a mountain. My eyes open and I sit up straight.

Giving the concerned woman the most charming smile I can muster I tell her some placating nonsense, “Lots on my mind… trying to process it all… no big deal… thanks for ordering.” I feel the words leaving my mouth but don’t really hear them, it’s just wa-wa-wa noises being extruded from my esophagus. By the smile that lights her face though I register Staci’s pleasure. Good, a happy woman is a happy man, or so they say.

I don’t feel very happy.

Staci nods to herself, still smiling, and blesses me with a side I’ve yet to witness. Cutting back the incessant chatter she leaves me with silence (mostly) so that I may better enjoy my mental solitude. And then the meal comes, giving us an excellent excuse to keep our mouths shut.

I don’t believe steak and potatoes ever tasted so good and to my surprise I find myself thinking about things other than my recent temporal ‘experience’, things like how attractive the woman across from me can be. From the way she holds her posture to the meticulous effort she obviously puts into doing her makeup, Staci is one good looking broad.

After dinner Staci gives me a ride to my car and, with promises to call sometime, I climb behind the steering wheel and watch her drive off.

Digging out my cell phone I plug it into the car charger and turn it on. I’ve got nine voicemails and sixteen text messages, all from work, both jobs, and all pissed. The texts read even more so than the voicemails. Why is it people feel more inclined to speak their minds through a text message? Must be because there’s more of a buffer there, it’s less personal or something. I don’t know but what I do know is I’m not dealing with any of this until tomorrow.

I turn off the phone and start the car. Putting the POS in gear I pull away from the curb and aim the headlights in the direction of home. Oh boy my bed is calling.

 

The sun shines through the window and I can feel my feet heating up as the morning light warms my blanket. Thoughts pertaining to the incredible dream I was having rambling through my cerebellum cause an involuntary shiver to run up my spine. Stretching I smile while enjoying the comfort of my bed as my thoughts flash briefly to Staci. Perhaps she’s the addition I need to attain maximum comfort.

Banishing the thought I conclude time travel is only theoretically possible, as per modern science. This is the same science that only in recent years has accepted the fact that YES there are circumstances when light travels faster than a hundred and eighty-six thousand miles a second. I believe they’re saying this was proven with neutrino emissions from some particle accelerator I read about online. I’m pretty sure it was neutrinos but don’t quote me on that.

This refuge of sanity could only last so long though and it lasts about as long as it takes for me to reach out and blindly grab my cell phone. Drawing it near I crack an eye to read the time (of all things), instead I look at the Temporal Reconfiguration Unit and reach my exploding noema. An exploding noema is supposedly a term meant to describe the moment a person’s perception of what they believe should be happening catches up with what really is happening. I don’t know, I heard it in a movie and think it’s cool. As it is I go from ‘no time travel’ to ‘time travel’ in an instant.

I sit straight out of bed and throw back the covers, swinging my legs off the side as I do so. The TRU’s clenched tightly in my hand and I stare at it with wonder. It’s finally sinking in the power I now wield. I’m the time master, AWESOME!

Reality just keeps coming and I quickly realize time master or not I’m a dead man as far as a certain criminal element is concerned but I’m pretty sure I can fix this unfortunate turn of events. I don’t really think it’s for me to die young and I am certainly not intending to let things stand like this. I tell myself while I dress it’s this and the fear of walking around openly which prompts my rash decision. I know better but dodging death seems a far better excuse than the satisfaction of a curiosity born from excessively reading science fiction as a child.

I step over the edge and all I have to guard myself is my reason.

In a sturdy pair of boots on my feet, tough jeans, cotton tee, and a flannel (high-ho Paul Bunyan) I stand and look at the simple time machine. I hesitate for the briefest instant and snatch the TRU off the bed. If I’m going to do this it better be now!

Picking it up brings the screen to life and I hurriedly pull up my earlier rift coordinates, hit enter and begin manipulating the time counters. When I’m done the display reads-

RIFT CO-ORDINATES

Rift Departure- 07:16:02 (and counting) 08.24.2011AD

Rift Arrival- 12:46:00 08.09.2011AD.

This day at the track was life changing and I hold in my hands the power to fix it, something every man dreams about at least once in his life What if? What if I could go back and fix this mistake, that blunder, make things right again. Never mind this is nature’s way for man to grow wiser and better, the way we expand beyond our shortcomings in an attempt to reach our maximum potential.

Greedily I press the TRAVEL button. Just as before I feel my body stretch impossibly and then I snap back into my normal form standing in the exact same spot in my bedroom. Incredible, no flashing lights, no loud noises, just a little physical discomfort and ZIP-ZIP I’m in the past. And it may be me but it almost seems the unpleasantness isn’t quite so unpleasant this time.

Before it powers off the TRU display reads -Rift Travel Successful- the first time I notice that. Of course my other two experiences with ‘Rift Travel’ hardly left me in a state of mind to notice such things. Speaking of… I notice me sleeping soundly beneath my covers.

I snort loudly in my sleep and I let myself out knowing I won’t be awake for another hour yet this morning. I chuckle as I shut my apartment door behind me because while I re-engage the lock on the doorknob and lock the deadbolt behind me I have no way to latch the chain. I laugh again because I remember when I left for the dog track this morning I noticed the chain unclasped and thought it was rather strange because I always latch it. Now I know why it had been undone, I knew it hadn’t been me. Well, I guess technically it was me!

This last thought has me over the edge in a fit of hysterics. Not a good thing since I’m taking the stairs two at a time. I miss my footing and barely catch the handrail in time which only makes me laugh harder as I hit the landing. Maybe I’m losing my mind and I’m really in the present, whoa I’m going crazy, my mind is teetering! And so is my body; I laugh even harder.

All the time in the world and I don’t take any to stop and consider the catastrophe I’m currently capable of unleashing. I watch enough T.V. I should see it coming but I don’t. Nope, I’m far too caught up in my own selfish motives to give a damn.

Once I hit the street I leave my car where past me had left it abandoned the previous night (morning). One wheel scraping the curb, another on top of it entirely, the war torn appearance of the vehicle is a testament to the condition past me will wake up in. Just a side