Short Story Sampler
Brittany C Gates
Smashwords Edition
Copyright © 2011 by Brittany C Gates
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Ozzie Boussard stepped off the bus into the middle of the university’s campus. He looked around uncertainly and ruffled his unkempt hair.
I can’t remember where the building’s located. My brain’s so frazzled. I can’t even remember the building’s name.
Ozzie looked around and saw a number of college students standing at the stop for the next bus.
“Hey, um, where’s the science building?”
“The Hollis building,” a male student asks.
“Yeah.”
“Across the campus next to the clock tower.”
“Thanks. I forgot.”
Ozzie walked away and made his way to the Hollis building. He entered and used the building directory to find the office he wanted.
“Dr. Stevenson’s on the second floor. Ok.”
Ozzie climbed the steps to the second floor and entered the physics department office containing Dr. Stevenson’s office within it. An older woman eyed him cautiously.
“May I help you?”
“Yeah, I’m here to see Dr. Stevenson.”
“He’s not seeing students at the moment.”
“I’m not a student.”
“Then who are you?”
“A family friend.”
“I need a name.”
“You must be new. If you knew who I was you wouldn't dare talk to me like that.”
“Ok, humor me: Who are you?”
“Ozzie Boussard. I'm Dr. Victor Boussard's son.”
“Good one. Now get out of here before I call campus security!”
“You don't believe me?”
“Dr. Boussard doesn't have a son. If you're gonna lie then do some research first.”
“Cindy, he does have a son but Dr. Boussard is so ashamed of him that he's written him off.”
“Dr. Stevenson, I didn't mean to disturb you.”
“Don’t worry about it. You were only concerned and rightly so. Ozzie, you don’t look good at all.
“I know.”
“Come in and we’ll talk. Cindy, make sure no one disturbs us.”
“So you're actually Dr. Boussard's son?”
“Unfortunately so.”
Ozzie followed Dr. Stevenson into his office. He took a seat across from the desk while Dr. Stevenson closed the door.
“You can't pull rank anymore, Ozzie. The staff here doesn’t know your father or you.”
“That's a damn shame. But I do have you, right?”
“I won't always be here.”
“That's what I came to talk to you about. I read the news section on the physics’ website that you’re retiring. Is that true?”
“Yep. I've been teaching for nearly forty years and I'm tired.”
“Walt, it's me you're talking to. What's the real reason?”
“I'm old, Ozzie. I want to get away from grading tests and dealing with departmental politics.”
“Bullshit!”
Dr. Stevenson looked at his hands and grew forlorn.
“I want to trust you, Ozzie.”
“You can.”
“So why are you here today? Are you trouble again? Do you need money?”
“Why do you ask that?”
“Because I know who I'm talking to. You look like hell, Ozzie. Have you eaten or taken a bath lately?”
“I was a little busy so no. Amber took off with the rest of my money and the drugs…again.”
Dr. Stevenson sighed. “You need to dump her, Ozzie. She's no good. She's the one that got you into trouble in the first place.”
“You’re right. I thought she was helping me by giving me the pills but she didn’t.”
“What are you taking now, Ozzie? Adderall? Zanax? Or are you back on Oxycontin?”
“I’m not on anything right now. I just look like this because…I don’t want to get into it right now.”
“I'm sorry. I just worry about you, Ozzie. You're like a son and I love you and I don't want you to die.”
Ozzie rubbed his eyes. ”I haven't heard anyone say they loved me in a long time. Not even that bitch. My parents sure don’t. I called them a week ago.”
“Why did you? It's a mistake to talk to them.”
“They have money! I, I want to get clean and stay clean this time. I will. I know I screwed up in the past but I'm gonna go straight this time. I just wanted them to pay for rehab but they wouldn't even answer my call. So I went to their house.”
“Oh God no.”
“Mom saw it was me and called the police. Then I got a little loud and the cops arrested me for disturbing the peace. I stayed in a jail for a couple of days until Amber got enough money to bail me out. While I was in there I went through a mini-detox. That's why I look like this. Well, I look like this ‘cause I spent a little time on the street…sleeping. Amber said she didn’t want me anymore and kicked me out.”
“Then why did she bail you out?”
“Pity, I guess.”
“Ozzie, I'll take you to my house, getcha cleaned up and fed and I'll see about getting you rehab.”
“No. You don't have the kind of money like my parents have. I won't ruin you too.”
“I want to do it.”
“No! I won't be like my father and ruin your life for the betterment of mine. I know that' the reason you're retiring. You can't take it anymore. I don't know how you did all these years.”
Dr. Stevenson rose and motioned for Ozzie to get up too.
“Let's go. I want to show you something at my house.”
Chapter 2
Dr. Stevenson drove while Ozzie sweated constantly.
“How long have you been without your pills?”
“Almost two weeks.”
“You can die from the withdrawals. I should take you to a hospital.”
“No hospital. If I can't go to rehab then I'll just go cold turkey. I gotta get off this shit once and for all. I'm gonna get better and restart college. Yeah, I have it all planned out. I'm gonna become a physicist like you.”
“And your father.”
“I don't want to anything like that man. The way he treated you...no, I'll never be like him.”
“I'm glad that you're not, Ozzie. That's why I can trust you with this information.”
“With what?”
“I think I've figured out how to shift time.”
“Shit, I really need to get off drugs 'cause I just heard you say that you've discovered how to shift time.”
Dr. Stevenson nodded.
“Walt, are you on drugs?”
“I sound unbelievable, I know, but what's more unbelievable is that I've actually built a time machine.”
“Now you're shittin' me.”
Dr. Stevenson shook his head.
“You're for real! How?”
“Thirty years of constant work. Thirty years of math formulas. Thirty years of ingenuity and patience. Thirty years of trial and error. Thirty years of pouring every bit of money I could into the device. And thirty years of luck.”
“You gotta show it to me.”
“After you take a shower and eat a full meal.”
“Can we take a trip?”
“No. My calculations for coming back aren’t one hundred percent reliable. The last time I came back was by the skin of my teeth. I won’t risk it again until I can guarantee I can come back one hundred percent of the time.”
“Where did you go?”
“The Normandy Invasion.”
“Why there?”
“My grandfather fought and died there. Well, that's what the government told my grandmother. They couldn't find his body or dog-tags. I wanted to find out what happened to him.”
“Did you find him?”
“Yes.”
“Was he dead?”
“No.”
“That’s good, right?”
“Not in this case. My grandpa decided to stay overseas to enjoy himself after the war and make a new life. I actually spoke to him. I spoke to the lousy bastard and he told me that he hated his life back home and his new family and his dead-end job. He changed his name, ran away from the Army and moved from country to country.”
“Damn. He's worse than my old man.”
The pair arrived at Dr. Stevenson’s modest home several minutes later, parking in the garage.
The doctor unlocked the door and both men entered the kitchen. Ozzie made his way to a bathroom in the back.
“What do you want to eat?”
“Anything.”
Dr. Stevenson opened the fridge and removed a loaf of bread, deli meat, lettuce and various condiments. He prepared a thick sandwich and placed it on a plate. The foodstuffs went back into the fridge and Dr. Stevenson opened a bag a chips and poured some onto the plate next to the sandwich.
With the food ready and waiting for his guest, the professor walked to his bedroom. There, he opened the closet and searched inside, pulling out a clean pair of khakis and a few polo shirts. He laid the clothing on his bed and moved to a dresser, pulling out a pair of athletic socks. He heard the shower stop and a couple of minutes later Ozzie, wearing a towel around his waist, joined him in his bedroom.
“Thanks for laying out my clothes for me, mommy.”
“Ha, ha. You look better. You could use a shave, though.”
“I don't like to use other people's toiletries.”
“That's why I didn't set out any underwear.”
“I don't mind going commando anyway. Keeps things free down there.”
“I'll wait for you in the kitchen.”
Ozzie dropped his towel and dressed in the provided clothes quickly. He joined the professor in the kitchen and pounced on the food on the counter.
“Where did Amber run off to?”
“Probably shacked up with some john she met on Craigslist.”
“She does that?”
“For money or drugs, yeah. Amber's so fucked up now.”
“You need to leave her.”
“I know.”
“Then do it.”
“I gonna but she's got some pull over me. She was the first girl I slept with, ya know.”
“I just don't want you to get caught up in her craziness and get hurt.”
“Are you gonna show me the time machine?”
“Yeah, if you're finished eating.”
“Where is it?”
“In a big shed in the backyard. I had it specially made. It nearly takes up the entire backyard.”
Chapter 3
Dr. Stevenson and Ozzie entered the shed and the room illuminated.
“Cool.”
“I had that made so I wouldn't have to fight to find the light switch each time. Come on, the machine's in the back.”
The pair walked twenty feet to a back corner, twisting and turning to dodge tables, piles of electronics on the floor and many, many whiteboards. The men stopped before a large black curtain drawn across the corner. Dr. Stevenson pulled the cord and drew the curtain aside.
“That's the time machine?”
“Yes, Ozzie. I know it doesn't look like much but it works.”
“I thought it would be big and bulky like the ones in the movies. This is...minimalist.”
“I had plenty of designs drawn out over the years and I thought the machine would be big too but I discovered that a small footprint was what I needed. Let me demonstrate: You stand here where the footsteps are on the floor with your arms to your sides and look straight ahead. Those horizontal bars overhead scroll down via voice activation and scan a 3D image of your entire body with lasers. That model is saved in a computer program. Once it's saved the program checks to make sure nothing was missed and there are no abnormalities within the scan. Then you set whatever date you want to travel to.”
“You can only travel to the past with this machine?”
“Yes. You see future travel can't be possible because we don't know what's happened. Well, that's what I believe.”
“So how do you travel to and from?”
“The machine creates a portal to the specified time by connecting to the time stream that exists for that period. And that's my major breakthrough. It's taken me decades to find it because the technology wasn't good until now but I have found thousands of time streams dating back to the earliest periods. They're like the jet streams meteorologists use to forecast the weather. Except the time streams are naked to the human eye. They can only be seen by sophisticated radio wave and 3D imaging software.
“So once you've set a date the machine connects to the time stream for that year and creates a portal. The portal is circular and shimmers like silver. And it can sometimes have a wavy appearance like the ocean. You step through it and your body is transported to the past with the 3D model taken beforehand. A second portal is created in the past and it stays there until you return through it.”
“How do you keep it hidden?”
“I try to be as specific as possible with the placement with the portal. Using historical records I try to place the portal in a home or a secluded spot. If someone comes upon it, however, he or she can't use it.”
“Why not? Someone can walk through and be transported here like you were transported there.”
“No, the laws of time won't allow that. Well, I'm eighty-five percent sure that it won't. I think since my body is occupying that space in the time stream only I can use the portal to come back. If someone else tries to enter he or she should be denied since their body doesn't match the 3D model of mine.”
“But that's a theory, right?”
“For now, yes. I haven't tried it out.”
“You said you had trouble coming back. What happened?”
“The time machine uses a tremendous amount of power. I don't know if you saw before we entered the shed but it's solar powered. I had solar panels installed a few years ago so I wouldn't have a large electric bill and be flagged by the power company. I didn't want someone to come out here thinking I ran a marijuana farm or something.
“So the machine uses the reserves from the huge batteries occupying half the space in the shed to keep the portal open and once the batteries run out then electricity kicks in. But when I came back from my trip to Normandy I barely got back because the batteries gave out and there was a power outage in the neighborhood (not related to me) and the portal soon closed after I entered. I didn't know if I was going to return to my home or just disappear into the cosmos but I made it back. I don't want to travel again until I create an improved contingency plan.”
Ozzie stood before the time machine and stared at it with awe.
“Walt, this is going to change the world. This is going to change everything we know about time and physics.”
“I know but we can't tell anyone.”
“Why? There's so much we can find out about the past. History can be relived! We can answer pivotal questions that have been unanswered for years!”
“Ozzie, I don't trust humankind anymore. People will bastardize my discoveries and use it for evil. I'm only showing the machine to you because in a couple of days I'm going to destroy it. I will back up all of my findings and keep them locked up but the machine and all the blueprints will be destroyed so the technology won't get into the wrong hands.”
“Why show it to me then?”
“I wanted at least one person to see my discovery before it's gone.”
Suddenly, Ozzie doubled-over and vomited his lunch. Dr. Stevenson ran over to him.
“What's wrong? Did the food make you sick?”
“No. It's the withdrawal. I need to lie down for a while.”
“No, you need to go to a hospital.”
“I'm not going. Just let me sleep at your place for a few days and I'll be fine.”
Dr. Stevenson relented against his better judgment and helped Ozzie back into his home. The pair didn't see the man hidden behind a massive oak tree spying on them.
The man pulled out a cellphone, dialed a number and waited for an answer.
“What did you find out,” asked a male voice.
“It's in the shed.”
“Can you get it?”
“Yes, but it will take a little more time.”
“I need it quickly. I promised them a viewing.”
“Fine, but do you know that Ozzie's here?”
“No. What is he doing there?”
“Looking for a place to stay and eat. Do you want me to take him out too?”
“No. We can use him. Yes, I got it now. I'll get Ozzie to get the machine for me. Get out of there and let me handle it from here.”
Chapter 4
Ozzie tossed and turned in bed and wiped his nose repeatedly. Dr. Stevenson brought in a small trashcan and set it down near him.
“Walt, thanks. Can you get me some water?”
“Sure but I think you still need to go to a hospital.”
“Nah. If I can get through just a couple of more days I'll be clean. I can feel it. This time I'm gonna stay clean.”
Ozzie heaved and sought the trashcan. He vomited.
“I'm gonna get you that water.”
“Do you have any soup? I'll need something to keep my strength and I won't be able to keep down solid foods.”
“I don't have any soup in the house. I'll need to go to the store.”
“Go. Oh, and get some of that juice they give to babies when they have diarrhea.”
Dr. Stevenson didn't move.
“Walt, why are you standing there? Go!”
“Ozzie, I don't want to leave you by yourself.”
“I'll be fine.”
“How do I know you won't leave and get high?”
“I don't have any money and I don't know where the nearest dealer is.”
“An addict will find a dealer.”
“Walt, you said you trusted me before. Trust me now. I'll be here when you get back.”
Dr. Stevenson nodded. “You're right. I'll be back in twenty minutes. Thirty top.”
The doctor left and Ozzie tried to relax, but the constant body aches and dripping nose made comfort difficult to attain.
He shut his eyes for the umpteenth to go to sleep but his cell phone rang.
“Ahhh who could be calling?”
Ozzie fished through his pockets and pulled out his phone. He saw a number he didn't think he would ever see again.
“Dad?”
“Hello Oswald. How are you?”
“How do you think? You had me thrown in jail, remember?”
“I apologize for that. Your mother just got a little scared after you showed up at the house like that. I'll pay for any trouble you're in.”
“I don't need your money.”
“If that's true then why were you begging for money for rehab?”
“I want to get clean!”
“I'm willing to help you now. Where are you?”
“Somewhere safe. Why don't I meet you somewhere?”
“Oswald, I won't beat around the bush because I don't have much time. I know you're over Walter's house. I know he's gone. I saw him. I need to talk to you. I'm sitting in a dark gray car across from the house.”
“Are you following me?”
“Oswald, last chance: Come outside and talk to me and I'll make it worth your while.”
“How?”
“I have five tablets of Oxycontin waiting for you. I know you want to get clean but I know you've been without pills for a while and you need something to comfort you until you get in rehab. If you do my favor I will pay for rehab and your room and board afterwards”
“What do you want me to do?”
“I'm not going to talk about it over the phone. Come out to the car and we'll take a short drive and I'll tell you.”
“Why should I trust you? You screwed so many people over.”
“That's true. But I know you will come because I have pills and you're dying for a hit. You have three minutes to get in the car. After that the pills and the deal is gone.”
The call ended and Ozzie pulled the phone away from his ear slowly. He pocketed it and sat on the bed.
Oh God why did he have to do this now? I can't go outside. I can't get in that car. I've gotten this far. I can get clean and stay clean. But he has pills. He had Oxy and I would love just to crush one of those suckers up and snort it. But those pills come with a trap. My father wants me to do something bad. And why did he follow me here? Too many questions and my head is pounding and I feel like vomiting again and my entire body aches. I want one of those pills. I need one of those pills.
Ozzie stood from the bed and walked through the house until he got to the door to the garage. He exited and saw the dark gray car across from the house.
“I'm sorry, Walt.”
Chapter 5
“You had forty-five seconds left, Oswald.”
“I was trying to decide whether to come or not. I know you and you don't help others just to be nice. What do you want?”
“First off, when will Walter come back?”
“Fifteen minutes or so. He went to the store to get a few things.”
“Ok. Larry, drive around the neighborhood for the next ten minutes and then come back here.”
“You have a driver, dad? Ah, the military-industrial complex is paying very well these days, huh?”
“I do very well, you know that.”
“Yes, I know. Especially since you stole the technology that's made you rich.”
“Oh naive boy. You will learn one day that it's a dog-eat-dog world. Walter was going to waste the discovery. He wanted the praise from the academic world. I saw the potential in commercial and military uses and 'borrowed' it. I asked Walter if he wanted to join me but he declined. I bet he's never told you that.”
“He has. He's also told me that you never gave him the chance to inform anyone of the discovery, not even the college. Once he did all the work you stole the paperwork and the blueprints and ran off to the company you already made a deal with.”
“We did that work together, Oswald, you know that. Half of the discovery was mine. But the past is past. I'm looking toward the future and so should you.”
“I am!”
“And so is Walter.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Don't ask me how but I know that Walter built a time machine. I said don't ask me how. I have my people and my people are good finding out information. I need the machine, Oswald.”
“Why?”
“I've informed some very important businessmen and political figures about this discovery and they want a viewing.”
“Walt was right about destroying the machine. He knew bastards like you would use it for evil.”
“So he wants to destroy it. I can't have that. When did he say he would destroy it?”
“No. I'm done answering your questions. I'm not going to help you steal another discovery from Walt. He trusts me.”
“Then you won't get the pills.”
Dr. Boussard shook the pill bottle and Ozzie's eyes watched the individual pills tumble inside.
“That got your attention. You can have more if you get me the machine.”
“How?”
“Take out Walter.”
“You mean...kill him?”
Dr. Boussard nodded.
“You've sunk that low?”
“Oswald, with a discovery like this my name will go down in history books. I will make millions if not billions of dollars and I will be on every TV show and magazine across the world. Yes, I would kill for this opportunity.”
“But Walt's my only friend. He's the only one that helps me even after all the crazy shit I've done.”
“I know this is difficult for you but think of this proposition: After you get out of rehab I'll get you into one of the top schools for physics. I'll pay for your undergrad and graduate studies. During that time I will pay for your housing and transportation and I'll provide spending money. After your studies are done I'll provide a high-paying, senior research job in the company. You can work there with other great minds on any project available and even create a few personal ones.”
“Dad, I know I've screwed up in the past and I've done some shitty things for drugs but I never killed anyone. I won’t kill Walt.”
“If you don't, Oswald, someone else will. And you will die too.”
Ozzie gasped and stared at his father.
“You would kill me too?”
“Like I said before, I will kill anyone for this opportunity. So, are you going to do it?”
Ozzie shook his head and began to cry.
“Do I take that as a 'no?'”
He choked out a few sobs but stopped himself from bawling.
“I'll do it.”
“You will?”
“Yes.”
“Good. I need the machine by the end of this week. I don't care how you kill Walter but kill him such that you won't get caught. Here are the pills I promised and it seems that we're back at the house and Walter's not back yet. You better get going.”
Ozzie pocketed the pills and exited the car. He walked briskly to the house and reentered through the unlocked garage door, returning to his room.
He sat on the bed and stared at nothing, pouring over his deal with his father.
“God, what did I do?”
Chapter 6
Dr. Stevenson entered his house and placed the foodstuffs on the kitchen counter.
“Ozzie, I'm back! Are you feeling better?!”
He didn't get a response.
“Ozzie! Ozzie, are you still here?!”
Again, no response.
Dr. Stevenson stopped what he was doing and walked briskly to the room his guest was in before. The bed was ruffled but Ozzie wasn't there.
I knew he would do this. I shouldn't have left him alone.
The professor turned and nearly bumped into Ozzie.
“Jesus! Where were you? I thought you had left?”
“No. I was in the bathroom.”
“Are you feeling better?”
“Kinda. Did you get the food?”
“Yes. Would you like me to make you some soup?”
“Yeah. I'm going to lie back down.”
Dr. Stevenson nodded and walked back into the kitchen as Ozzie lay down.
Ok, that one pill calmed me down for a bit but I can't take anymore until after I'm done. Am I really going to kill him? Maybe I can tell Walt what my father wants to do and we can call the police. Ohhh that's not going to work. It would be our word against my father's and he has enough money to buy his way out. But I can't kill Walt. He's been good to me. Why did I agree to this? I should've never got in that car. But I want to get clean and this might be my only chance. I could go to rehab, get clean, go back to college and get my physics degree and work alongside great minds searching for the next discovery. Yeah, I could do it.
* * *
Ozzie entered the shed and made his way back to the machine. Dr. Stevenson sat at the desk pouring over some paperwork.
“What's that?”
“My documentation about my discovery in paper form. It's backed up on this flash drive. These are the blueprints for the machine and that's backed up on this flash drive. After the trip I'm burning the paper documents and locking up the flash drives somewhere safe.”
Everything is here. This is the perfect time to act. But what will I do?
“Do you want to go on a trip?”
“I thought you wanted to wait?”
“I think you deserve it. Plus, I’ll be here to monitor everything. Go ahead and stand so the computer can scan in your image.”
Ozzie stood on guides and looked forward.
“Computer, scan.”
The bars descended slowly and captured Ozzie's body, returning to their original position.
“Ok, you can step away now. It's going to take the computer several minutes to check the scan for any abnormalities. Do you have a particular date that you want to visit?”
“I haven't decided yet.”
“Well, take as much time as you need. I'll be here at the desk going over my paperwork.”
Ok, Ozzie, it's time. His back is turned to you. Get something heavy and hit him over the head with it. That should kill him.
Ozzie searched for a heavy object and found a large brick across the room. He made his way quietly across and picked it up.
This seems heavy enough. I can also dispose of the brick easily too.
Ozzie crept behind Dr. Stevenson and raised the weapon. He grimaced and closed his eyes.
God, please forgive me.
He swung the brick down and stuck the professor on the back of his head. Dr. Stevenson crumpled onto the keyboard.
“I did it? I did it!”
Ozzie heard and felt a huge gust of wind and turned to see what it was. He saw the portal too late and stepped into it. His next step landed nowhere as he fell down, landed on the ground, tumbled down a steep hill and came to rest on a dirt road.
His eyes fluttered and he saw a donkey-pulled cart come toward him with an alarmed man dressed in robes and speaking a language he didn't understand before blacking out.
Chapter 7
Ozzie woke with a searing sensation in his right leg and someone pulling him. It was the man with the donkey-pulled cart. The man stopped pulling him when he saw Ozzie was awake and spoke rapidly in a language he couldn't understand.
“Where am I?”
The Good Samaritan shook his hands and spoke in the unintelligible language again. He knelt near Ozzie's head and pointed to his leg.
“What? What are you pointing at? I don't understand you.”
The unintelligible man lifted Ozzie's head and pointed to his right leg again. He saw a bone sticking out of the flesh.
“Oh shit! How did that happen? Did you do that?”
The man pointed to the sky and made a dropping motion with one of his hands.
“I remember now. I fell from the portal and tumbled down a hill. Speaking of that...it looks like I'm in a desert but I smell the sea and I see trees. I don't know where I am.”
The unintelligible man pointed to the sun and Ozzie saw it setting. Then the man grabbed Ozzie underneath his armpits and dragged him onto his cart. Ozzie screamed from the movement.
The unintelligible man mounted his donkey and prodded the animal to move.
“Where are my pills? They’ll stop the pain.”
Ozzie patted his pockets but couldn't find the pill bottle his father gave him.
“Shit! I'm stuck in the past without my pills with a man that I can't understand and my leg is broken and I’m in tremendous pain. Shit!”
The pair traveled on the long bumpy road until the sun almost set. The unintelligible man pulled his donkey off the road and into a clearing in the trees.
The man slipped off the donkey and proceeded to build a fire near Ozzie. Then he slung off his animal skin filled with water and placed it to Ozzie's lips.
“Is this a stomach of an animal? Why am I asking you? You can't understand me.”
The man pressed the skin harder against Ozzie's lips and he finally took a few sips. The water was cool but odd tasting and gritty.
The Good Samaritan drank some of the water and moved to the fire. Ozzie watched him prepare dinner. It consisted of some unknown animal flesh on skewers. The Good Samaritan brought a skewer to Ozzie. He nodded and the man nodded back.
I don't want to eat this because I don't know what animal it came from but I'm starving. Just put it in your mouth, chew it up and swallow.
Ozzie ate quickly and finished his skewer before the unintelligible man finished his. He pointed to the last one.
The man spoke, got up and pulled a few morsels of meat off the stick and handed it to Ozzie.
“Thank you.”
He popped the pieces of meat into his mouth. When he finished Ozzie was still hungry but tried to fill up on the water the man brought to him later.
Darkness came and engulfed everything but the fire. The sky was moonless yet star-filled.
I’ve never seen the sky like this before. So many stars. I can even see the Big Dipper. All without a telescope. This is beautiful.
Unfamiliar hoots and howls filled the air and every movement or snap filled Ozzie with more and more fear.
Ok, fire keeps away animals. As long as the man keeps the fire going we should be fine.
Then a new noise joined the others: Snoring. The Good Samaritan slept.
Fuckin' great. How can he sleep with everything that's going on? Ozzie, you're so stupid. He's used to this, you're not. It's gonna be me that won't be able to sleep. This is going to be a long night.
* * *
Ozzie woke up and felt movement underneath him. He raised his head slightly and looked around. The cart moved.
The sun was just above the horizon but the Good Samaritan was up traveling slowly on the road. Ozzie forgot about his broken leg but each bump and knock on the road made him aware of it again. Then the withdrawal sweats started again.
I really wish I had my pills. I don't know if I'm gonna make it.
As the morning progressed so did the pain in his leg and his withdrawal symptoms.
Afternoon came with heat and Ozzie's sweats increased. Then he felt nauseous and light-headed.
God, I think I'm gonna die.
Ozzie passed out.
Chapter 8
Ozzie came to feeling movement underneath him. The cart moved through a village and he heard people talking. His leg throbbed and Ozzie felt incredibly weak.
My leg feels like lead, I'm sweating through my clothes, I can hardly lift my head and I'm incredibly thirsty.
The cart stopped and the unintelligible man dismounted his donkey. He checked on his guest, frowning at the scene.
“Help me. I know you can't understand me but help me.”
The man brought out the skin of water and gave some to Ozzie. He drank all he could before dropping his head onto the wood due to exhaustion.
The Good Samaritan set the skin near Ozzie where he could reach it and walked away.
“Where are you going? Don't leave me!”
The man walked through the thick crowd, trying to get to the front. Ozzie closed his eyes and cried.
The Good Samaritan pushed his way forward as he yelled out for help.
“(Jesus of Nazareth. Please help me. I have a wounded man that needs healing.)”
No one paid attention. The crowd was too loud. The man continued pushing his way through.
His shoves became harder and his push-throughs stronger. He continued to call out to Jesus. One man he shoved past took offense to the hit and grabbed the Good Samaritan.
“(You think you can hit me and get away with it?)”
“(I'm sorry but I have a sick man that needs healing. I'm trying to get to Jesus.)”
“(We're all trying to get to Jesus.)”
“(Please let me go so I can get to him.)”
The man threw the Good Samaritan into the throng of people. He stood up eventually with the aid of other men and women and stormed the attacker. The fight grew as other men tussled or tried to break up the fight.
In the clearing Jesus and his disciples saw the commotion.
“(Jesus, the crowd is becoming too violent. I think we need to send them on their way.)”
“(No. There is something else wrong. Go and calm the crowd and bring those that cause the disruption to me.)”
The disciples fanned out and entered the fracas, calming down the crowd and stopping the fight several minutes later. Then they pulled out the aggressor and the Good Samaritan and brought the men to Jesus.
“(Tell me why you two disturbed my teaching?)”
“(That man over there pushed his way through the crowd trying to get to you. He hit me hard among other people.)”
“(Is this true?)”
“(Yes. I have a sick man that needs your healing. Only you can heal him, Son of God.)”
“(Why do you say that?)”
“(He is weird. He wears clothing I've never seen before and speaks a language I've never heard.)”
Jesus nodded slowly. “(Peter, Andrew, come with me. Take us to your injured passenger.)”
The foursome walked the distance to the cart. When they reached it Ozzie appeared dead.
“(Peter, Andrew, pick him up and take him into a house near the dock. You will find it empty. Be careful not to disturb his wounded leg. Sir, you can stay with your donkey. I will heal the young man.)”
“(Thank you! You are truly the Son of God. I will tell everyone of what you did today.)”
“(No! Do you not tell anyone of what you did or saw today. Just give you gift at the temple and live your life according to God's teachings. That is enough.)”
Jesus left the Good Samaritan and walked to the house near the dock. He found Peter and Andrew comforting Ozzie who awoke from the pain.
“(Leave us and do not allow anyone to come inside or close to the house.)”
“(The young man talks a strange language that neither of us understands. And he wears clothes we never seen before. Is he an angel?)”
“(Peter, that is not for you to know. Now leave us and follow my orders.)”
The disciples left and Jesus kneeled next to Ozzie.
“Oswald Oppenheimer Boussard, you are not supposed to be here.”
“How do you know my name? How do you speak my language?”
Jesus laughed. “The infection circulating throughout your body made your eyes weak. Focus more and you will recognize me.”
Ozzie raised his head off of the floor a little and squinted. Then his eyes opened wide.
“You're Jesus!”
“I am.”
“You're an Arab?”
“I am of Middle-Eastern descent, as of many of the people during this time period.”
“We have it so wrong.”
“Yes, that and many other things. Can I offer you some wine?”
“I don't think I should have any in my condition?”
Jesus rose to his feet and moved to gather a wine skin.
“Do you mean your injury or your prescription drug addiction?”
Ozzie averted his eyes. “You know about that?”
“Yes. Now lift your head and drink.”
“I can’t. I’m too weak.”
Jesus lifted his head up and poured the wine into his mouth. Afterwards, Jesus sat next to Ozzie.
“I'm sorry for what I did to Walt. I got caught up with the drugs again.”
“I know.”
“Do you think he will forgive me?”
“I know he will. He loves you. You must apologize to him however.”
“I can't. I can’t because I can’t get back to my time. The portal disappeared.”
“You will see him again.”
Ozzie yawned deeply.
“I'm going to die, aren't I? That's how I'm gonna see Walt again, right?”
“Yes...and no.”
He yawned again and his eyelids drooped. Ozzie forced them back opened.
“I don't feel good, Jesus. I feel weird. And I feel sleepy.”
“Go to sleep, my child.”
“I don't want to die.”
“You won't die. You are healed and you will be healed when you wake up.”
Ozzie closed his eyes and instantly fell into a deep sleep.”
Chapter 9
Ozzie woke up and rubbed his eyes lazily. He grunted, turned onto his side and closed his eyes again. He tried to go back to sleep but the urge to pee forced him to get out of bed and plod toward the nearest bathroom.
As he relieved himself Ozzie looked over into the mirror and saw his reflection. His pants caught his attention and he stopped urinating.
“My leg…it’s not broken. I’m standing on it.”
Ozzie pulled down his pants and looked at his right leg. The bone wasn’t sticking out and the flesh wasn’t torn. His skin was smooth and without blemish as if the wound was never there.
“I’m not sweating. I don’t have a fever anymore. I’m healed. He healed me! Oh shit!”
Ozzie ran out of the bathroom, down the hallway and to Dr. Stevenson’s home office. He wasn’t there. Ozzie ran outside into the backyard. He threw open the door to the shed, yelling the professor’s name as he entered.
“I’m right here! You don’t have to yell.”
Ozzie closed the door behind him and walked toward the professor. Dr. Stevenson stepped away from him.
“Are you going to hit me again?”
“No. I’m sorry about that.”
“Why should I believe you, Ozzie? You hit me over the head with a brick and then disappear for days. Where were you? Out getting high?”
“No. I’m clean now.”
“Yeah, that’s what you keep saying but I don’t believe it.”
“Walt, I got something to tell ya but I don’t think you’re gonna believe me.”
“Try me.”
“My father wanted your time machine. He’s been watching you – watching us. He propositioned me to kill you so he could have the machine and the blueprints.”
Dr. Stevenson lowered his head.
“I said yes. I hate myself for agreeing to the deal but he had pills and I was hurtin’ and I think a part of me wanted his affirmation or love or whatever. That’s why I hit you.”
“You couldn’t go through it so you left? So now you’re back to finish the job?”
“No. After I attacked you, you collapsed onto the keyboard and then a portal appeared. I stepped into it by accident.”
“Ozzie, how did you get back?! The machine had an unknown failure while I was out cold and when I awoke the entire machine was damaged beyond repair. It looks like a huge power spike fried the insides. I started taking it apart and dumping the parts into this acid to destroy it.”
“Walt, I think Jesus sent me back.”
“Wait. Where did the portal take you?”
“At first I didn’t know because the land was desert-like. I fell down and broke my leg. A man speaking a different language picked me up in his cart and took me to a large crowd. After that everything was a blur ‘cause of the withdrawal, the pain and the infection taking over my body. But I remember two men carrying me into a house and then Jesus talking to me. He gave me wine to drink. Then I went to sleep and woke up here.”
“That is much to take in, Ozzie. Do you drink?”
“Not really. Why?”
“I think we need a drink and let all of this set in.”
* * *
“Are you sure about that? So you saw him alive? Oswald is there too?! No! Don’t do anything. I see that my son was no help at all. Fuckin’ junkie. Do you at least know where he disappeared to? You don’t. Why am I not surprised?! I see that you are no use to me any longer and your employment will be terminated. I had to push back the demo a few days because you couldn’t do your job. I’ll take care of this myself.”
Dr. Boussard ended the call and pocketed his cell phone.
“Larry, take me over to Dr. Stevenson’s house again and be quick about it.”
“Yes sir.”
The car accelerated and Dr. Boussard fished inside his sports jacket and pulled out a pistol. He searched again and pulled out a silencer. He fitted the silencer onto the pistol and checked the magazine. It was full. Dr. Boussard replaced the gun into one of the pockets in his jacket.
They arrived at Dr. Stevenson’s house just as evening began to take hold. The driver parked across from the house.
“Larry, this time just stay here and keep the car running. If I’m not out in fifteen minutes then come and get me.”
Dr. Boussard exited the car and walked toward the house causally. At the front door he rang the doorbell and waited.
The door opened and he saw his only child standing before him.
“Dad! What are you doing here?”
“I want to know the same about you, Oswald. You didn’t keep your part of the deal.”
“I couldn’t kill him. I wasn’t going to kill him. And I told him about what you wanted to do.”
“I figured. You always had a soft spot for Walter. I know you rather have him as a father than I and I’m not upset by that. I was long ago but when you dropped out of college and became a drug addict then I was glad you chose another father.”
“If you’re going to berate me then leave.”
“I plan to do more than that.”
Dr. Boussard pulled out the gun and jutted it into Ozzie’s stomach.
“What the hell?!”
“Just be calm and let me inside.”
Ozzie backed up inside the house and Dr. Boussard let himself in, closing the door behind him.
“Where is Walter?”
“In the kitchen.”
“Take me to him.”
Ozzie took his father into the kitchen where Dr. Stevenson sat, drinking a beer. He looked up and saw the armed guest.
“What the hell, Victor?”
“Walter, I’m going to be brief because I’m in a rush: I want the blueprints to your time machine. I know you must have a set.”
“Sure. You can have them.”
“Then give them to me.”
“They’re in my room. I was going to place them in a safe deposit box later. Will you put the gun down while I go get them?”
“No.”
Dr. Stevenson took another plug from his bottle and then walked to his bedroom. He came back a minute later with several thick manila envelopes.
“Inside are the blueprints and the smaller envelope holds the flash drive that contains the data files for the blueprints. It’s saved in various formats.”
“Give it all to Oswald. I want him to take it out for me.”
Dr. Stevenson did as commanded.
“I’m glad you decided to do this the easy way, Walter.”
“I knew there was no way to win. You always get your way, Victor.”
“Indeed I do. Let’s go, Oswald.”
Ozzie walked out of the house first with the documentation and Dr. Boussard pocketed the gun. He pointed to the car parked across from the house and Ozzie walked to it, setting the envelopes inside on the backseat.
“Thank you, son.”
“Don’t ever call me that again! And don’t even try to see me again! Lose my number because I never want to hear from you again! You’re not my father anymore and I’m not your son!”
Dr. Boussard mulled over the outburst and then smiled.
“If I hadn’t stopped thinking you as my son years ago, Oswald, that would’ve hurt.”
He entered the vehicle and the car drove away.
* * *
“I can’t believe you gave the blueprints to him!”
“Sit down, Ozzie.”
“Walt, do you know what you just did? Do you know what my father will do with that technology? He could destroy the world.”
Dr. Stevenson up-turned the bottle in his mouth and finished the beer. He got up to get another one.
“Is that all you can think about right now? Getting drunk? My father is on his way to sell your discovery to the highest bidder for God knows what.”
“Then that person will be sorely disappointed.”
“What do you mean?”
Dr. Stevenson took a plug off the new bottle before answering: “I knew something like this would happen. Either from your father or someone else. So I fudged around with the blueprints, just in case they ended up in the wrong hands.”
“What do you mean by ‘fudged?’”
“Forgot a step here and there. Labeled parts incorrectly. Mixed up voltages. Those kinds of things.”
“So the machine isn’t going to work at all?”
“Nope. They won’t be able to figure it out.”
“Won’t they just come back and get you to fix it?”
“They can but I’ll just pretend that I can’t figure it out and give the tired saying that students give me all the time: It worked for me.”
Ozzie laughed. Dr. Stevenson smiled.
“Now, you must finish you tale regarding your trip to the Holy Land. Tell me, what was Jesus like?”
“Huey, here comes your favorite customer now.”
Huey turns away from his boss, Riker, and looks at the entrance. A white man between the ages of fifty-five and sixty walks into the coffee shop with his laptop and takes a seat at a table in a corner. Huey groans as Riker folds his arms and stares hard at the “favorite customer.” Riker’s short sleeve shirt creeps up slightly, showing the dull green pigment of a tattoo on his dark brown skin.
“I give him ten minutes before he mouths off to one of us. Then I’ll kick him out.”
Huey, a mid-twenty something white male, turns back to face his boss with disapproving eyes. He’s the type of young man which likes to dress in knit shirts and freshly ironed pants. He keeps a professional appearance with his facial features too, making sure to shave every day and keep his hair trimmed.
“You ain’t gotta be like that, Riker. I don’t think he has anywhere else to go to get free Internet.”
“There’s the local library. Plus, we’re a coffee shop first and we only offer free Internet to lure customers in. The man doesn’t buy anything and occupies a table for hours on end several days a week. On top of that, he gives everyone here a hard time.”
“He’s just angry at life.”
“No he ain’t,” Riker says as he shakes his head. “He’s mad ‘cause us baristas make more than him now. He thinks he’s better than us ‘cause he used to a manager makin’ six figures. Now he ain’t makin’ nothing.”
“How do you know that?”
“He’s told a few of the other employees that on various occasions.”
“Yeah, he’s told me something along those lines too,” Brian, an obese black man, says. “I didn’t enlighten him to my problems of being an out of work lawyer.”
“But doesn’t he have the right to be even a little mad,” Huey asks. “He lost his job and he probably can’t find another one. Employers today don’t want to hire people his age.”
“Huey, his anger ain’t because of that. That man’s angry because he’s lost his stature in society. I bet he thought he was middle class, or even upper middle class, and now that’s quickly fading away. He’s lost his job, can’t find another one, owes money on his house and maybe a car or two. I bet he’s had it easy getting good jobs and never worried about finding another one because he always could until now. All that scares him but depression gets you nowhere. Plus, it’s more fun to yell at others. So he comes here thinking he has a little power over us ‘cause he’s a customer and the customer’s always right.”
“Damn, Riker. That was pretty deep.”
“Go out with drinks with him sometimes, Brian, and you’ll hear much more. I always tell Riker he should’ve been a professor and teach a course on life.”
“And I always tell Huey no ‘cause life can’t be taught; it can only be experienced. Now I gotta go and work on some paperwork.”
Riker walks into the back of the coffee shop leaving Huey and Brian to work the front counter.
“Huey, it’s slow right now so I’m gonna wipe the tables.”
“I can do it, Brian.”
“Nah, I got it.”
Brian waddles from behind the counter with a bucket of disinfectant liquid and a towel to a table and wipes it down. Once he finishes, Brian pulls down his shirt over his girth. He wipes down each empty table and nears the table where the “favorite customer” sits.
“Get your fat ass out outta my face!”
Brian dumps the towel into the bucket and turns around slowly to face the “favorite customer.”
“Excuse me, sir.”
“You heard me. I don’t want to look at your lard ass while I’m here.”
“Then don’t look at it.”
“Lissen, I’m trying to find a job here and you’re bothering me. Can you go do that somewhere else?”
“Sure.”
Brian picks up his bucket and waddles across the room to the other batch of tables to wipe them down. Huey shakes his head and walks out from behind the counter to talk to him.
“Are you gonna take that from him?”
“Yeah. I kinda need this job to pay the bills at the moment.”
“But he shouldn’t talk to you like that.”
“Huey, he’ll be gone in a few hours. Don’t worry about it.”
“I should say something to him.”
“Why? So you can lose your job? It’s not worth it.”
Huey shakes his head as Brian wipes down a table.
“I got a customer. I gotta go.”
* * *
Huey watches the “favorite customer” pack up his laptop and leave several minutes before closing time. Riker and Brian join Huey to watch their “favorite customer” leave.
“Did he order anything today?”
“Not a thing, Riker,” Huey says.
“If he comes in tomorrow I’m gonna tell him he gots to order something or he gots to go. He can’t use the store’s free Internet without buying somethin’. Especially during our peak times.
“Gotcha.”
“Yeah, we understand.”
“You guys wanna get a beer?”
“Not tonight, Riker. I got that interview in the morning, remember?”
Riker smacks his forehead. “I forgot, Brian. You got the morning off and you’re gonna work a double this weekend. What are you interviewing for this time?”
“It’s a Paralegal position with the city’s DA office.”
“Nice. Is it full time with bennies?”
“Yeah. But the best part is that I can move up to being a lawyer after a year if they can use me.”
“Then you can put that law degree to use. Good luck, man.”
“Thanks, Huey. I’ll see y’all later.”
Brian leaves and Riker locks the door behind him.
“What about you, man? You wanna get a drink.”
“Why not. If I go home now my parents are still up and they’ll question me whether I’ve found a better job yet.”
* * *
Riker and Huey sit at the counter at the bar, drinking tonight’s special from frosty mugs.
“Huey, how long have you been out of college?”
He lowers his mug and taps on his chin. “I graduated two years ago.”
“And how long you’ve been working with us?”
“You already know that?”
“Just humor me.”
“Almost two years.”
“And you couldn’t find anything better?”
“I damn sure tried. I had interviews but they always hired the person with more experience. Plus, I graduated at the wrong time. It’ shard to find a ‘normal’ job when you’re competing with thousands of graduates and unemployed old people trying to hold onto their slice of the American Dream.”
Riker chuckles and takes a long draught from his mug.
“Why did you laugh?”
“Huey, do you believe in the American Dream?”
“Well, yeah. Don’t you?”
“No. Hell no.”
“Why not?”
“I’m a black male that came from a poor family that came from another poor family. Our only dream was to have enough to eat. The American Dream, in our eyes, was only for rich, white people and immigrants.”
“I never thought about it like that.”
“I know this has to be a slap in the face for a white boy like you. Your parents made a good living, right? Like, y’all never had to worry about not paying the light bill or something, right?”
Huey nods.
“And your parents told you to go to college ‘cause that was the right thing to do, right? They told you once you graduate you would have a good job with a nice car and a cool apartment, right?”
Huey nods his head again.
“But look at you now: A college grad working for ten bucks an hour at a coffee shop, living with your parents ‘cause you can’t afford to live by yourself. Some American Dream. If you ask me you’re living the inverse of the American Dream.”
“Wait. I don’t understand.”
“You took math, right? The inverse is the opposite of a formula or a graph.”
“And how does that fit into our discussion?”
“Well, look at who the economy is benefiting now: Minorities. And I ain’t talking about race. I’m talking about the people that have been on the bottom for their whole life. Like God said: The last shall be first, and the first shall be last. So all those poor bastards losing their houses for whatever reason someone else gets them that probably never thought they would own a house in their life and on the cheap too! Wall Street is shit so people wanting to play the stock market but couldn’t cause it was too expensive can now. And all the guys and gals working in the trade industry are making a good buck while the white collar workers are losing their jobs right and left.”
“Inverse…I understand you now.”
“Don’t get too sad, Huey. You’re a good guy and you’ll move up in life. You just gotta work hard now. But things for our ‘favorite customer’ don’t look so good. That’s why he’s so upset.”
“Riker, I tell y’all to be nice to him ‘cause he reminds me a little of my dad. He’s worries about losing his job.”
“He should. Everyone should. In today’s world you have to show your worth or you’ll be cut. Even then the corporations cut ya if that means they’ll save an extra dollar or two. And there’s little you as an employee can do about it ‘cause there are hundreds out there willing to take your job for lower pay and more shit to take.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of. I’m really afraid ‘cause I’m one of those people. If I was offered my dad’s position with a twenty percent pay cut and more work to do I would take it.”
* * *
Huey enters the kitchen the next morning and heads straight for the refrigerator without greeting his parents sitting at the kitchen table. Huey takes out a bottle of milk and moves over to grab a box of cereal from a cabinet.
Download this book for your ebook reader.
(Pages 1-38 show above.)