Wealth of Time Series Boxset Page 11

  * * *

  Martin jumped out of bed on Monday morning. He had spent the rest of the weekend keeping his mind distracted with alcohol and fighting the urge to drive by his old house and see what his once happy family was doing. He also soaked in his responsibility as the man to stop a travesty across town, three years away. The fact that the event was so far out is what ultimately convinced him to move forward with it. He wouldn’t be around in 1999 to see what eventually happened. When he returned to life in 2018, he could look up Columbine High School and see there was no tragedy that had ever occurred. He’d be the city’s biggest hero without anyone knowing why. Living with a fulfilling secret like that seemed like a much needed addition to his dismal life in 2018. Chris could take his emotions and shove them up his ass. Martin would know he had done the right thing, and emotions wouldn’t matter at that point.

  Martin dressed quickly and left for the library. The library was one block from the church and he saw its pile of ashes dwindle as construction crews filled the lot. His mom was probably there helping, but he managed to push the thought of her out of mind.

  He hadn’t been to the library since he was a child, but it all looked the same from his memory: plain brown siding, dirty windows, and not an open spot in the tiny parking lot. He parked on the street and walked a block to the main entrance that welcomed him with the musty smell of old books.

  The entrance opened to a wide, open floor, shelves of books to the right, tables in the middle, and three computers to the left where two elderly people occupied the machines. In front of the bookshelves stood a tall desk where a heavyset woman sat behind a computer screen, her eyes peering around behind pointed glasses. She smacked her red lips as she watched Martin approach her desk.

  “Good morning,” he said. “Do I need a library card to use the computers?”

  “Yep,” she replied in a snotty voice.

  “Can I get one?”

  “Yep. You got an ID?”

  Martin paused. He did have an ID. From 2018. “What do you need an ID for?”

  “Need to verify your address.”

  Martin pulled out his wallet and held it open to the snarky librarian, keeping his thumb over the important dates on his driver’s license, but allowing her to see his address, which was still in Larkwood.

  “Thank you,” she said flatly. “Give me five minutes and I’ll have your new card ready. Feel free to grab the open computer. If you need to print anything, it’ll be five cents per sheet.”

  “Thank you kindly,” Martin said in the gentlest voice he could muster, hoping he could make this miserable woman’s day a little better.

  He crossed the library and sat down at the open computer. The elderly couple paid him no attention and continued clicking around on their screens. Martin opened the browser and punched Google into the web address. After thirty seconds of loading, the screen came back with an error message: THAT DOMAIN DOES NOT EXIST.

  Oh, shit. Do I buy that domain? What could come of that?

  The thought left his mind quickly, as he needed to gather all the information available for Columbine High School. He went to MapQuest instead, the main source for finding where to go at the time. The results came back and let him know that the school was 31 miles away, a 40-minute drive, and included turn-by-turn directions on how to get there. Martin printed these directions. There was no satellite imagery available, no way to view the school from the street. The technology of the future was something he had taken for granted as he realized his capability to research the school was limited.

  He switched the browser to Yahoo, the new search engine that everyone was talking about since they could find any bit of information. If you all only knew how obsolete Yahoo will become.

  Martin typed the school’s name into the search bar and waited another minute for the results to come back. The elderly couple had left Martin alone to wait impatiently for the slow computer to work its magic.

  The search returned exactly what he wanted: Columbine’s official website. He clicked on it and found nothing but disappointment. The site had the school’s name in big letters across the top banner, and HOME OF THE REBELS! Beneath. That’s it? There was no menu, no pictures, nothing.

  Jesus Christ. Martin had to remind himself that people were literally in the learning stages of building websites and using the Internet in general. The school’s IT person, if such a position existed, likely threw together the most basic HTML knowledge he could find off Yahoo.

  With zero information, aside from the directions, Martin called it quits, accepting defeat to the lost cause that was mid-90’s Internet. He grabbed his directions from the printer next to the computers, dropped 15 cents into the change box, and visited his favorite librarian to pick up his card.

  “Done already?” she asked, sliding over the card.

  “Yeah, just needed to print some directions.”

  “Fine then, we’ll see you next time.”

  “I look forward to it.” Martin winked at her, yet she remained cold and stone-faced. One day I will get you to smile.

  Martin left the library to return home and set an actual plan in stone. He also had a date later that night to prepare for.

  * * *

  Martin stopped to buy a telephone on his way home and would need to call the phone company to activate his line and get his new number. By his memory, phone numbers were still only seven digits, as there hadn’t been a need for area codes quite yet. The nostalgia seemed to snowball a little more with each passing day as something always reminded him how simple and silly life used to be.

  When he arrived home, Martin pulled out the notebooks he had also purchased at the store and flipped one open to its first, fresh page.

  COLUMBINE, he wrote across the top and underlined with a jagged line. He wrote down everything he could remember off the top of his head:

  -April 20, 1999

  -Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold

  -Pipe bombs and handguns

  -Started in the cafeteria

  -Ended in the library

  -Both had parents who weren’t around

  -Both were bullied throughout high school

  That was all he could piece together for the time being. With these few facts in front of him, he decided he had a few options as how to approach his heroic act. Would the right move be to try and stop the bullying? Help the kids feel more involved with their peers?

  He’d have plenty of time to solidify his game plan. Later in the week he’d drive down to the school to see if he could even locate the two boys. It would likely require multiple visits to find them, then follow them, and learn their routine. They may have not even been friends yet during their freshman year, so he might have to follow them separately to see exactly what they did after school.

  Martin closed his notebook and stuffed his papers neatly inside. He’d had enough of playing detective for the day, and began to prepare for his date with Sonya.

  20

  Chapter 19

  The ambiance at La Casa del Rey was the exact same as last week. The mariachi band sang the same songs (they all sounded the same to Martin), the chatter echoed around in a way that made his head ring, and Gio poured drinks at the bar.

  Martin shuffled through the crowded dining room to find a spot at the bar when he saw Sonya already sitting there with two full margaritas in front of her. Her back was to him, and he took the chance to admire her beauty. He was glad to have dressed nicely for the occasion, seeing as she wore a sparkly black dress that cut off mid-thigh to show off the legs that had driven him wild when they first met. Her hair curled down to her bare back, and Martin caught the scent of perfume as he approached her.

  “I hope one of those is for me,” he said.

  She turned in her stool with a wide grin that showed her perfect teeth and gentle eyes. “It sure is. I was thinking we have a drink and get out of here. I know somewhere that’s not so chaotic where we can actually converse without yelling.”

 
; “Works for me.”

  Sonya handed him his drink and he remained standing beside her, as no other seat was open at the bar. They talked about their weekends, Sonya having used hers to grade papers and catch up on sleep.

  The small talk faded along with the margaritas. They both devoured a basket of chips and salsa before Martin waited for Sonya to suggest the next move.

  “Let’s go,” she finally said after listening to one more song from the mariachi. She jumped off of the barstool and grabbed Martin’s hand, pulling him through the crowded room toward the exit. The smells of food mixed with her trailing scent of fruity perfume.

  Sonya didn’t slow down as she barreled through the door, taking them back outside where the evening started to cool off.

  “I like it here, don’t get me wrong, but I thought we’d make this a more formal date,” she said, continuing to walk to the parking lot. “I can drive.”

  Martin followed his spontaneous date to her car, a newer Toyota sedan with a bumper sticker that read: IF YOU CAN READ THIS, THANK A TEACHER!

  “Sweet ride,” he said casually as he closed the passenger door. “So, where are we going on this mystery date?”

  “There’s a restaurant right outside of Denver that one of my student’s parents owns. He has a standing discount for any faculty from the school, and I like to take advantage from time to time.”

  “I see. I can drive us if you wanted to drop your car off at home.”

  “It’s fine. I insist.”

  She giggled again, an innocent, charming sound that now combined with her scent in a mixture that made Martin’s head spin, and his heart tingle.

  Don’t fall in love. That’s not what you came here for. You’re here for Izzy and nothing else.

  “Martin?” she asked, interrupting his thoughts.

  “Sorry, I zoned out for a minute.”

  “I asked if you like steak?”

  “Yes, absolutely.”

  “Okay, good. Because we’re going to a fancy steakhouse. Just wanted to make sure.”

  She popped in a cassette tape and they listened to a young Celine Dion during the rest of the drive across town.

  * * *

  They pulled up curbside to a valet parking attendant who greeted them with a warm smile. Martin grabbed her hand and led them toward the golden double doors that led to the stone building called Lavender.

  Shrubbery decorated the outside of the building, purple neon lights running along the ground on the walkway into the entrance. Soft jazz greeted them as they stepped in to the lobby, where the host welcomed them from behind a tall stand.

  “Welcome to Lavender,” he said in his most formal voice to match his three-piece suit. “Do you have a reservation this evening?”

  “Yes, sir,” Sonya said. “It should be under Sonya Griffiths.”

  The man peered down a list with a keen eye and pursed lips until he found the name. “Perfect. Give us one minute to prepare your table, Ms. Griffiths.”

  “Cool-looking place,” Martin observed as he looked around at the dim lighting and upscale art covering the walls.

  “Yeah, don’t think I’d ever be able to eat here if it wasn’t for the discount. Ray takes such good care of us teachers.”

  “This way, folks,” the host said, now holding two menus as he stepped out from behind his stand. He led them through the main dining room and to a back private room where a lone table awaited them, candles flickering in the center, two glasses filled with red wine in front of each seat.

  The host pulled out a chair for Sonya and shuffled around the table to do the same for Martin, who thanked the man.

  “Your server will be with you folks in just a minute. Have a pleasant dinner.” He bowed out of the room hastily.

  “So what’s good here?” Martin asked.

  “Everything,” Sonya said. “I usually get a steak, but I’ve heard the seafood is great, too, if that’s your thing. I’m not a fan of seafood in general.”

  “Neither am I.”

  “Well, then, no sushi dates for us!”

  Martin chuckled and opened his menu, falling deep into the many options to choose from, and noting the hefty price tag with each item.

  “Good evening, folks,” a voice came from behind Martin, whose back faced the door. It sounded older and a bit too familiar for his liking. He looked up to Sonya and saw a wide grin on her face as she watched the approaching waiter. “How is the wine?”

  The waiter stood at the side of the table, looking down at them from his dark eyes, his frosty hair standing out in the dim room. The man locked eyes with Martin, making him feel somewhat possessed.

  “My name is Chris, and I’ll be taking care of you folks tonight. Have we had a chance to look at the menu?”

  “The wine is delicious, and I don’t think we’ve decided on dinner yet,” Sonya said.

  “Very well,” Chris said, turning to Martin. “Any questions, sir?”

  Martin gazed up like the waiter was a planet in the night sky. His throat clenched as no words came out when he opened his mouth to speak.

  Chris laughed. “Very well, sir. I know our menu can be a bit overwhelming. I’ll come back in a couple minutes to check on you.” The old man left the room as Martin’s jaw hung open.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Sonya asked in a stern tone. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” he mustered. “I just . . . need a minute. Let me use the restroom and splash some water on my face. This room is hot, don’t you think?”

  “Okay?” Sonya’s face scrunched into confusion.

  Martin excused himself, stepped out of the private room, and followed a long hallway to the restrooms. He pushed open the swinging door and found Chris standing at the sink, hands under the faucet, an evil smirk on his face in the mirror.

  “Martin, my friend! I knew you’d come find me here.” Chris’s voice returned to the more laid-back, eccentric version of itself that he had known.

  “What are you doing here?” Martin asked.

  “Take it easy. I’m here because you asked me to come. Did you not?”

  Martin thought back to the other day when he had wished for Chris in his thoughts, but couldn’t recall saying anything out loud.

  “You don’t have to say it out loud. I can hear your thoughts, my friend.”

  The statement sent a new wave of chills through Martin’s body as he felt his arm hairs standing stiffly underneath his sleeves.

  Martin studied the bathroom stalls, looking for feet beneath the doors.

  “Don’t worry, we’re alone. You should get back to your date. You look to be doing just fine.” Chris grinned as he turned off the faucet, and splashed his wet fingers into the sink.

  “I asked for you for a reason. Why did you leave out so much information?”

  “You talked to Calvin, yes? He’s a good guy. I send all of you through time on a level playing field. I only inform you of the cardinal sin to not break.” Chris smirked, staring into Martin’s soul. “There are lots of little things to know, more than I could ever cover. It’s best to learn as you go.”

  “So I’m supposed to just live each day like normal and hope some crazy Road Runner doesn’t snipe me from a rooftop?”

  Chris laughed. “You should worry about the Road Runners, but they’re not as intense as Calvin might have you think. Yes, they have an evil agenda, but they don’t just attack for no reason.”

  “How do you know all this? Do you have some master security cameras that you watch in your tiny room and get off to watching me struggle?”

  Chris threw his head back and howled, his white hair dancing. “Of course not. I’m the keeper of time, I can jump around to wherever and whenever. If I wanted, I can know what you’re going to do before you do.”

  Martin stood in silence and looked down to his feet.

  “Look, I’m here to help if you need. I can’t help you on your actual mission, but I’m here if you need to talk. For now, just go back to your date –
she’s starting to worry. Try to relax, everything will be fine. Enjoy the 90’s. What a time to be alive!”

  “I swear to God, if anything happens to me, I’ll kill you.”

  “I’m sure you will,” Chris mocked with a wink. “Now, I have a table to wait, I suggest we get back out there.”

  Chris shuffled past Martin, leaving him alone to stare in the mirror and wonder what the fuck he had gotten into.

  “Be normal. Breathe. You have a beautiful date, go enjoy the night,” he said to himself before stepping out.

  He walked back down the long hall and returned to the private dining room where Sonya waited with a now empty glass of wine. A basket of bread had been placed in the middle and she started to apply butter to a slice.

  “I’m so sorry. Can we just start over right now?”

  “Sure,” she said. “Is everything okay?”

  “Yes. I’ve got so much going on, my mind has been in the clouds. I haven’t been able to focus and give you all my attention, so I do apologize for that.”

  “No worries. Let’s move on. I’m ready for dinner.”

  “Me too. I think I’m just gonna order the prime rib, something nice and heavy.”

  “That’s what I was gonna get! I already ordered sides, so those should be out soon.”

  They dined and drank wine for the next two hours, falling into deep conversations about past relationships, family, and hopes for the future. Trust developed easily between the two as they swapped stories, a new waiter dropping in from time to time. Martin’s mind tried to wonder where Chris had gone, but he maintained his focus on the beautiful woman across the table.

  “Let’s get out of here. Wanna have one more drink back at my place?” Sonya asked after they paid the check.

  “I’d love to,” Martin said, his heart fluttering at the thought.

  Maybe I’ll save Izzy and just stay in 1996 after all.