Button in the Fabric of Time (20 page)

Grandfather was smiling his usual charming
smile and, as patriarch of the Wilder family, said, “Jan-3,
welcome! Augustus, you lucky devil, she is charming. Your mother
has fixed your favorite dish. Now, Ella, when do we eat?” he said
almost in one breath.

“Right now,” Mother answered as she put her
arm around Jan and walked with her up the porch steps and into her
kitchen.

Jan looked over her shoulder at me. I smiled
and shrugged.

Dad grasped my hand and said, “Good to have
you home, son.”

I could tell by his expression that Grandpa
was thinking back to the time I had shown up in the barn when he
said, “A guy came by here about twelve years ago who looked just
like you.”

“Yeah, I know. . . . It was me.”

“Well, I see you’ve developed a sense of
humor,” Grandpa replied, smiling.

Mother said, “Jan, if you’ll pour the iced
tea while I set the food on the table, we’ll be ready to eat.”

Mother had prepared fried chicken with flour
gravy and biscuits. She served creamed sweet peas, a salad fresh
from the garden, and for dessert we had peach cobbler with cream.
The meal was wonderful. The conversation was light; we talked about
the weather, the current news, and the crops.

Then, as we were finishing, Mother asked,
“Jan, where do you live?”

Again, without hesitation, Jan replied, “I
live on the fortieth floor of a glass city that floats in the ocean
two thousand kilometers southwest of where Los Angeles now sits.
It’s called Alpha-1. It’s our capital city.”

Everyone except me stared at her in silence.
They seemed to be waiting for the punch line. My story had to be
told, and now was as good a time as any.

“Well,” I said, “let’s go sit in the living
room. I have a story to tell and it’s going to take a little time.
I want you to be comfortable while I tell it. Would anyone like
more iced tea?”

Mother took Jan’s hand and asked warmly,
“Would you sit with me? I’ve always wanted a daughter but, until
now, it wasn’t meant to be.”

After everyone was comfortable, I stood by
the fireplace with my right elbow on the mantel, so they could see
me. Everyone, even Jan, sat quietly looking at me. I began the
story by telling about the drive on the desert road when I saw the
blue light, and I ended the story right where I was standing. I
told about coming to the farm many years ago and about going to the
restaurant.

Dad chuckled, “I heard about that. Some
people still kid Joe about it even today. The constable is dead
now, but he loved to tell the story.”

“I remember that day,” Grandfather said. “I
still think about it sometimes.”

There was much to the story that even Jan
hadn’t heard. She, too, sat and listened as I told about the Antons
and the Ergons. Jan helped describe the encounter with the Lōōg.
Everybody remained sitting after I finished, seemingly unable to
comment.

With a twinkle in his eyes, Grandpa said,
“Augustus, you always could tell some whoppers, but this is the
best one yet.”

Mother looked worried. She said, “I don’t
know if I should be pleased or frightened.”

Dad said, “Son, this
is
a wild story.
Can you verify any of it?”

“Yes, I think I can. . . . Grandfather, you
wear grandmother’s wedding band on your little finger. You once
told me that there is an inscription on the inside, but you’ve
never told anyone what the inscription says. Is that right?”

“Yes, that’s right, but what has Rita’s ring
got to do with your story?”

“Where did you buy the ring,” I asked, “and
who put the inscription on it?”

“Rita and I bought the ring at Hawberg’s
Jewelers, from Mr. and Mrs. Hawberg. They were the original owners
of the store; but you can’t learn about the engraving from them
because they’re both dead now.”

“With your permission, I’ll go back and watch
them do the engraving.”

“You have my permission,” Grandfather said,
“but I don’t see how my permission is going to help.”

“Do you remember when you bought the ring?” I
asked.

“I’ll never forget. We bought it on the
morning of September 20, 1941. We were married after the harvest.
It was only a few months before the Japanese bombed Pearl
Harbor.”

They saw me take the button from my pocket,
rub it, and disappear, but before they could wonder where I had
gone, or what had happened, I was back, with the inscription ‘Till
the end of time’ handwritten on the front page of a newspaper that
was dated September 20, 1941. Grandfather was a strong man, but
tears came into his eyes.

They all stared at the newspaper.

“This ring was never off Rita’s hand until
the day she died, and it’s never been off my hand since. . . .” He
ended his comment when another thought came into his mind.
“Augustus, I remember seeing you in the barn just like you said.
The man I saw looked like you do now. I don’t understand how you
did it, but I think you’re telling us the truth.”

Mother got up, walked to me and hugged me
really hard. She asked, “What does this all mean? Are our lives
going to change?”

“Of course your lives will change—everything
is changing all the time. I don’t know when it will happen, but the
world is going to experience a Great War. I think most everyone
already knows that, but until then, you’ll go on just the way you
always have.”

Impatient to get on with our wedding plans, I
said, “Jan and I want to be married in the chapel where you and Dad
were married. We want to spend our honeymoon in the cottage on the
knoll overlooking the creek. Then we’ll return to the thirty-first
century, and use the knowledge we’ve been given to help make the
earth a paradise. If any of you ever want to, you can come and live
with us in the future. For now, you’ll continue living your lives
just as you are. Jan and I will return to visit at regular
intervals. If you decide that you want to come with us, we’ll take
you into the thirty-first century. But we’ll do nothing unless you
ask us to do it.”

Jan took Father’s hand and said, “I love your
son, and I would like to be a part of your family. Will you approve
of our marriage?”

Mom went to Jan and Dad, took them both in
her arms, looked at Jan, and said, “We approve of the marriage. I
can see that Augustus loves you, and you’ll have a wonderful life
together. I’ll help you prepare for the wedding. . . . Have you set
a date?”

“We want to be married right away,” Jan said.
“Would one week from today be all right?”

“Well, let’s see. You’ll have to get a
marriage license and get a wedding gown made. We’ll have to make
arrangements with the minister and reserve the chapel. We must get
wedding invitations out right away. . . . Oh, dear! I’ll have to
send invitations to my family. They’ll want to meet you. One week
may not be enough time for them to respond; they live in
Boston.”

“Don’t worry, Gus and I will put the
invitations in their mailboxes yesterday.”

“Yesterday!” Mom exclaimed. “We can’t even
get the invitations printed until tomorrow. The print shop will
have to work extra hours to get them done.” She looked at Jan and
her brow furrowed into a crease over her right eye. “Oh! I forgot!
You can deliver the invitations anytime you want, can’t you? Or can
you?”

Jan hugged her, smiled and said, “Yes, we can
deliver the invitations any time we want. I know it’s confusing;
it’s even confusing to me at times.”

The two women hugged each other, laughing.
“How many guests are you going to invite?” Mom asked.

“Invite everyone who wants to come,” I said.
“We’ll have it catered, and don’t worry about the cost—Jan and I
can get all the money we’ll need.”

“There’ll be a lot of people who’ll want to
attend the wedding,” Mom said. “Where can we hold the reception? .
. . I know; we’ll hold it in the little glen by the creek under the
old oak trees.”

Dad put his hand on my shoulder and said,
“Son, let’s sit on the porch. Women prepare for weddings better
without the help of men. We’ve got other things to talk about.”

Grandpa said, “Yeah, we got a good crop of
corn this year. The price is up, too, because of all this talk
about using it to make ethanol.”

“Dad, do you still have the horses we called
Ol’ Brownie and Ol’ Blaze? I’d like to teach Jan-3 to ride.”

“Of course,” Dad said. “I wouldn’t sell
either one of them. You’d better put Jan on Brownie; Blaze likes to
run and Jan might get hurt. Jan sure is pretty. I’m surprised that
a girl that pretty isn’t already married. Is there something wrong
with the men in the thirty-first century?”

“No, there’s nothing wrong, Dad, they’re
normal. In fact, everybody is supernormal. That’s why Jan is so
beautiful. All of the women in the thirty-first century are
beautiful.”

“Are the old ones pretty, too?” Grandpa
asked.

“There are no old ones,” I replied. “Women
live a lot of years, but the passing of time doesn’t wear their
bodies down. They’ve found cures for every known disease, so their
body cells reproduce themselves undiminished. They live many years,
but they don’t look old. Other than the children, everyone looks
the same age as Jan. Jan-1, the lady Jan copied, looks exactly the
same as Jan, and she’s 133 years old. . . . Dad, you know that I’m
30 years old, but how old do I look?”

“I was wondering about that,” Dad replied.
“You were home for your mother’s birthday three months ago. You
looked 30 then, and you were getting a few gray hairs, but you look
at least five years younger now, and I can’t see any gray.”

“That’s because I went through their
purification chamber,” I said, “and the impurities were taken from
my body. My body cells have reproduced themselves undiminished, so
I look and feel younger.”

“If everybody does that, and if everyone
looks the same age, it must get a little confusing,” Dad said.

“It’s confusing at first, but after you get
used to it, everything seems normal. Dad, Grandpa, I want to talk
about the coming war. I think you should prepare a shelter that you
can live in for weeks, even months if you have to. This area will
not be bombed, but the radiation from the atomic bombs will be bad
for a while. If you stay underground until the worst of it
dissipates, you’ll be all right.”

“When will the bomb be dropped?” Grandpa
asked, with a worried look.

“I don’t know the date, but I came by here in
2107, a hundred years into the future, and the house and barn were
gone. It didn’t look like there had been any blast damage at the
farm, but the cities around the Great Lakes and along both the
Atlantic and Pacific coasts had been blown to smithereens. Some of
the rural people were spared, and they were rebuilding.”

“Gus,” Father said, “I can tell by the
expression on your face and the seriousness in your voice that you
believe what you are saying, but surely you don’t expect us to
believe it.”

“I know it’s too much to accept all at once,
and I’m trying to explain. Bad things are going to happen, and I
can’t change that. I could change some things, but it would be
wrong. If I change anything, it would change everything. What I
can
do is come back for you, after you’ve lived your lives
here, and take you into the thirty-first century.” I paused,
looking into their eyes. “Of course, you can’t believe me now, but
Jan and I will come back from time to time, bringing something that
could not have been obtained anywhere on earth at this time. After
a while, you’ll believe. Dad, you’re sixty-five, so the war may not
come in your lifetime, but it will come.”

I said, “Grandpa, if you want me to, I’ll
reunite you with Grandmother just before you die, and then I’ll
take both of you into the future, where you will be made young
again. After all of your health problems have been corrected, you
and Grandmother will live long into the future.”

Grandfather said in a scolding tone,
“Augustus, I’m beginning to think like your mother. You
are
sounding a little scary. You’re talking about
resurrection
.
Only
God
can do that.”

“You’re right, Grandpa, I cannot resurrect.
Grandmother is dead and I can’t change that. You’ll die, and I
can’t change that, but I can take a nanosecond of your lives and
take the
you,
that exist in that nanosecond, into the
future, where all your illnesses will be cured. Think of all the
diseases that medical science has found cures for in your lifetime.
Look back at what the world was like a thousand years ago, and
you’ll get some idea of what’s possible a thousand years into the
future.” I stood up and scratched my head, trying to think of some
way to convince them. “I’ll try to illustrate,” I continued. “Do
you still have that old tintype of your grandparents in your
room?”

“It’s hanging right where it’s been for 60
years,” Grandpa replied.

“May I use it?” I asked.

“Yeah, but don’t break it. It’s the only one
I’ve got.”

I went upstairs to his room and, handling the
tintype with care, carried it to the front porch and showed it to
Dad and Grandpa. “How old were your grandparents when this likeness
was taken?” I asked.

Rubbing his chin, Grandpa said, “Well now,
let’s see. That picture was taken on their wedding day. Dad was
their fourth child, and he was born in 1896, so that picture must
have been taken around 1885. Girls got married young in those days,
so Grandmother must have been about 17. Granddad was a few years
older, so he was probably about 20. That’s about how old they look,
don’t you think?”

“This tintype displays a visual moment of
their lives,” I said. “That moment was captured by the camera and
moved forward. The image of the people in the picture has stayed
the same, and they have attained a form of immortality. Over the
years, photography improved. Motion pictures made it possible to
view a person moving, capturing their emotions of love, fear, hate,
and then sound and color were added. Improved method of filming
enabled the cinematographer to bring into the present, and hold for
the future the sound of a person’s voice. We can hear them cry,
speak, and sing. The possibility of that person attaining
immortality was advanced. Now, with digital cameras, we can
electronically move that image to wherever there are computers to
receive the image.” No one said anything, so I continued.