The End of the Line

 

Photo credit: Robsalot (that's me!)

“Did you know they define breakfast as the first meal of the day that is eaten within two hours of waking up?”

“Um, okay?” she replied as she sipped her coffee.

“Yeah, so that means what you are eating now is not breakfast.”

“What do you mean it’s not breakfast, its eight am, of course it’s breakfast.”

“Yes, for me, but you woke up at five. It’s been three hours, this isn’t breakfast for you!”

She looked up from her eggs to see he was grinning mischievously at her.

“Alright then, so what am I eating?”

“Hmm, I suppose we’ll have to make up a different word.”

They were both quite for a minute, trying to think of a new word when their contemplations were broken by the shrill scream of a siren. He looked at her and she looked at him, and without a word they got up from their table and walked out of the café, leaving the rest of their breakfast untouched.

They drove in silence to the old Navy base. The tsunami warning siren was still screaming, but the whole world seemed to otherwise stand still. No one seemed to be panicking yet.

As they drew closer to their destination the roads started to get busier, word was getting out. She clicked on the radio, but every channel was filled with the same warning message “evacuate now, disaster imminent, head to higher ground.” Blah blah blah. They knew it wouldn’t help, now with what was coming. The good news was, everyone was heading the opposite direction, a long line of cars snaking toward the bridges.

Finally they reached the edge of the island, with nothing in front of them but water they parked the car, walked out to the end of the old broken dock, and sat down. It was a beautiful morning, the water was calm and still, the sky was blue, and there wasn’t a hint of the imminent disaster.

“We should have brought our coffee.” She sighed

“Oh well, nothing we can do about it now.”

“Yeah, so how long do you think this will take anyway?”

“Any minute I would imagine.”

She reached out and held his hand. A half an hour passed.

“What do you think is taking so long?” she asked, “Shouldn’t the wave have been here by now.”

“No,” he said, “look”, and he pointed across the water to one of the old runways.

“What?” she asked as she peered in the direction he was pointing, but she didn’t wait for his answer because she saw what he meant, there on the runway, a blue car was driving, but before it reached the end it disappeared, only to reappear and start its journey again.

“See, we’re glitching, now they will need to reboot the whole thing again, come on,” he stood up and reached out to help her to her feet, “now they will need to reset, I guess the world won’t be ending today after all.”

 

Ships That Pass In The Night

 

Photo credit: Robsalot (that's me!)

He crouched low and peered over the top of the ridge to the flood light filled valley below “well, there’s the problem” he whispered.

“What?” she said, creeping up to join him.

“Aliens.”

They both were quite for a minute, absorbing the reality of the situation as they watched the scene below them unfold.

She turned away first, and pressing her back against the rock they had been peering over she lowered herself into the dirt and gazed out to the horizon. The sun had just set and the sky was ablaze in a brilliant shade of pink.

“Hey Adam” she said, poking him in the ribs.

“Yeah,” he replied as he turned around and sat down next to her.

“Does this mean we are going to have to do it again?”

“Yeah,” he sighed, “just like last time.”

“That’s what I was afraid of.”

“Dawn,” his voice grew concerned as he turned to face her.

She met his gaze, “I know.” She was trying to sound confident, but she was worried too.

“It’s just that we nearly lost each other last time, and I can’t do this alone.”

“I know.” She whispered. She wanted some profound declaration, like “I can’t live without you,” or “If I lost you again, it would be the end of me,” but she would have to settle for “I can’t do this alone.” She knew he loved her, after all it had been 958 years, but still, a girl likes to hear it sometimes. Especially since sometimes she worried that the only reason they were still together was because of the connection they shared as the only two time traveling immortals on earth.

As the .last whispers of pink faded to inky black in the sky, he spoke again. “Okay, so here’s what were going to do. We’ll hold hands, facing each other, and I’ll transport us back 100 years. In my estimation the aliens got here about 83 years ago, so that should allow us enough time to regain our memories, find each other, and then find the aliens before they get too ingrained in the Republican party to bring about the end of the world again.

“And how will we find each other?” That was the hardest part about time travel, it erased your memory. Oh sure, eventually it comes back, or at least it has so far, but the farther back we travel, the longer it takes. What if someday it doesn’t come back at all?

“Just like last time, we’ll decide on a meeting place, we’ll both think of it as we travel back in time, and then hopefully we will be drawn there, I estimate about 15 years after we go back, and when we see each other, we’ll know. That will still give us two years to prepare before the aliens get here.

“Okay,” she said clasping his hands, “see you in 15 years in Pershing Square.”

“Okay,” he replied, and with a flash of light, they were gone.

 

 

On Second Thought

 

Photo credit: Robsalot (that's me!)

I would recognize that handwriting anywhere, the illegible scrawl that covered dozens of sheets of yellowed notebook paper that were still in the bottom of my closet. It could only belong to one person, my high school sweetheart. I never thought I would see that writing again, and certainly not on a loan application that had appeared on my desk at First National Bank in Galveston.

I peered at the form in disbelief. Obviously it couldn’t actually be him, it was just a coincidence. Eastern Texas was far from the California town we had grown up in, and the last time I had heard, from a friend of a friend, he had relocated to somewhere in England. I flipped over the form. Yup, sure enough, Ben Tsobanakis, but could it actually be? Well come Monday morning at 8 AM I would find out.

Of course the first thing I did when I got home that night was Google him, but the results were inconclusive, and his Facebook was set to private. I would just have to wait.

By the time Monday morning rolled around I’d imagined the rest of their lives together. He would walk in through the door, our eyes would meet, and we would suddenly be 18 again. We would laugh about fate, and then I’d have my co-worker take the rest of my clients for the day. We’d go to Pleasure Pier, eat cotton candy and ride the Ferris wheel… and live happily ever after.

I was lost in my daydream when I heard the buzz signaling the front door of the office had opened. My heart was racing as I slowly rose to my feet and peered over my cubicle wall. I couldn’t believe what I saw. That same sandy hair, those same brown eyes, that same smile. It was him, it really was him!

I popped up and quickly smoothed down my skirt, I started walking out of my cube, but then I thought better of it. It would be more surprising if he walked into my cube, and I nonchalantly looked up from my computer. I hurried over to my desk and sat down. That was when I heard it, a female voice, asking for me by name. I popped up from my cube again, and that is when our eyes met. Not the brown puppy dog eyes I was expecting, but the piercing blue eyes of some strange woman.

“Hi,” she said, “are you Sarah? I’m Shelly, my husband Ben is just in the restroom, but we have an 8 AM appointment with you.”

“Oh,” I stuttered, “yes, though actually I’m not feeling well, so my colleague Mark will help you today.”

I hustled her to Mark’s desk, he looked rather surprised as I hastily shoved Shelly into his cube before I bee-lined for the back door. I texted Mark to apologize as soon as I was safely hidden in my car. He sent me back a winkey face and texed “anything for you.”

 

 

Until the Cows Come Home

 

Photo credit: Robsalot (that's me!)

“I’m a time traveler.”

She stopped mid bite, and looked up at him “A what?”

“A time traveler, I’m a time traveler.”

“Okay,” she snorted, “so that’s how you got here, you traveled through time?”

“No, I’ve never actually traveled through time, but I’m sure I’m a time traveler.”

“Yeah, whatever.” She replied as she returned to her breakfast.

“No seriously, I am.” He insisted.

She stopped eating again, and shot him a glare, but something about the look on his face, the way he was staring at her with those big, brown eyes, she gave in. “Fine, fine, you’re a time traveler, so, prove it.”

“Oh, no, it doesn’t work like that, I can’t actually travel through time, yet, but I will be able to, as soon as I find the one.”

“The one, what does that mean?”

“My partner I can’t travel through time without her.”

“Hmm, so who is your partner?”

“I don’t actually know, but when I find her, it’ll be obvious.”

“I see” she replied, and turned back to her breakfast again.

He opened his mouth to speak, but stopped short when he spotted some movement out of the corner of his eye. “What’s that?”

“What?” she demanded as she looked up from her breakfast yet again, “oh, it’s just the farmer, he’s probably moving us to a new field.”

He stood and watched the farmer as he made his way across the pasture, until he found himself running in a herd with the all the other cows. Many hooves skimming across spring grass drenched in morning dew, the herd thundered down the hill, but when they got there, instead of an open gate leading to the next field, there were large metal boxes.

He had never been so frightened in his life. Here he was, crammed into this metal box, packed in so tightly he couldn’t even move. And even worse, the box was bouncing up and down, side to side. He was afraid he would fall down and be trampled.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, the box stopped moving, and then suddenly one of the walls opened and they were being shuffled down a wooden ramp into a place like nothing he had ever seen before. Instead of green grass and rolling hills, there was mud, and fences, and cows standing shoulder to shoulder as far as the eye could see. And the smell, and the cries of the other cows, and the misery that hung, laced with death. He could smell it somewhere nearby, a lot of death, and it seemed to be emanating from a building across the way, the building they were now shuffling towards.

That’s when he spotted her, and she spotted him.

“It’s you!” she bellowed

“It’s you,” he cried back.

“Well there is only one thing left to do now!”

“Yes,” he mooed softly, “shall we?”

Their noses touched, and in a flash they were gone, two puffs of dust where there once were cows.

 

 

Sign of the Times

 

Photo credit: Robsalot (that's me!)

Jim had to admit there were some good things about this, for instance, at this very moment he was flying down the freeway, going the speed limit, at 5 pm on a Thursday afternoon. He was pretty sure he had never seen the city fly by at this speed before. He could get used to not wasting all of his time inhaling the exhaust of perpetual gridlock. He would probably fall behind on all of his podcasts though.

Today was actually the first day he had been back into the City since it happened. As he was driving in this morning, he was surprised to find he actually felt a bit nervous as the metal crags and peaks of the skyscrapers emerged on the horizon, would it be the same as he remembered? But as he drove through the streets he found nothing had changed. Well, there were no people to be seen, but the buildings, the statues, even the trash, was the same. He actually found the silence downtown to be peaceful, it allowed him to get the job done quickly and get out.

It was still an hour before sunset when Jim pulled in his driveway. His roommate, Marlene wasn’t home yet, but he was sure she would be back soon. He settled into the couch and to watch the shadows creep across the living room floor when the door flew open.

“It’s about damn time,” he exclaimed over his shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Marlene answered as she stomped into the room, slamming the door shut behind her.

“Don’t forget to lock it!” Jim grumbled.

“Duh,” she replied, “hey, what’s that?”

“What, the sign?”

“Yeah, the big fucking neon sign that is now taking up the whole living room wall.”

“I got it downtown today, it’s the sign from the bar I used to own.”

“Oh, does it work?”

“Of course it works, not that I am going to turn it on right now.

“Come-on, just for a second, please?”

“Fine,” he sighed and plugged the sign into the wall, the neon flickered to life, filling up the room with a red glow.

“Wow,” she said, but before she could finish her sentence, there was a pounding at the door.

“Shit,” Jim exclaimed as he yanked the chord from the wall.

Jim and Marlene briefly made eye contact before they fled from the room, through a trap door in the hallway, and down into the basement. The thick metal door slammed shut behind them and Jim slid the lock closed.

“I told you we shouldn’t have turned it on,” Jim sighed

A second later the splintering sound of the front door giving way echoed through the house. Then there were footsteps, a dozen at least, shuffling across the floor above them.

“So I guess we’re spending the night in here.”

There was a long silence, and then Jim replied, “I knew we shouldn’t have turned on that light, it was too close to nightfall.

“Sorry,” was all Marlene replied.

 

The Horse You Rode In On

 

It had been raining for nearly a week straight, but on Saturday morning the sun finally came out, which was excellent since Saturday’s were Anne’s day to ride Handy. Her mom dropped her off at the ranch at 9 am, and by 9:30 she looking at the world through Handy’s ears as they plodded down the Webb Ranch road toward the San Franscisquito Creek Trailhead.

At the top of the trail Anne could already hear the creek. It sounded like it was raging, but when they rounded the next bend she saw it still looked low enough to cross. Handy plunged in without a moment’s hesitation, while Anne perched nervously on his back, but before she knew it they were safely on the far shore and making their way up through the forest. As they emerged into an open field Anne noticed the sunny day had fizzled away, replaced by heavy black clouds. Anne sighed, and as if to punctuate her frustration, the skies opened up and the rain started pouring down.

“Okay Handy, let’s hurry home,” Anne whispered to the horse as she squeezed her legs and clucked her tongue. Handy broke into a quick trot and they bounced down the trail. Slipping and sliding they made their way back to the creek, Anne tried not to worry about the sound of roaring water that was echoing through the forest, but it was hard not to notice how much louder it was.

Finally they came around the last bend, and Anne saw what she feared, the creek was no longer a creek, it was a raging river. She pulled Handy to a stop and just sat, staring at the water. Now what was she supposed to do? It would be another couple of hours before her mom came back, and by then the creek would definitely be too high to cross then. She decided she would just urge Handy towards the water, she figured he wouldn’t go in unless it was safe to cross. Handy stepped into the water, and Anne clutched tightly to the saddle horn. The horse plunged forward through the creek, and everything was going alright, until Handy stumbled. Anne was pitched forward, and started tumbling toward the raging water, she braced for impact, but instead opened her eyes to find she was still sitting on Handy’s back, but instead of the creek, they were in a white room.

“Ah Handy, thank you,” a deep voice boomed, “now you may go,” and Handy disappeared, leaving Anne all alone in the white room.

Anne’s mom had been waiting for Anne for a half an hour, and was getting quite worried about her daughter, when she spotted one of the ranch hands down at the other end of the barn.

“Excuse me,” Anne’s mom called out, “have you seen my daughter, she leases Handy, she knew I was supposed to pick her up here at 4.”

“Handy?” the man replied, “oh no, it’s happened again.”