Nine-Tenths (2 page)

Nine-tenths of a second changed nothing. Nine-tenths of a second were pawns in a cosmic twist of fate. Leonard Tramer had sacrificed his life in pursuit of nine-tenths of a second that made no difference at all.

Chapter Two

Eventually, the toxic air drove Leonard from his prison. He grabbed the fire extinguisher and discharged it into the closet as if unloading a machine gun into a loathsome predator. Leonard slammed the door shut and gave it a good kick. Unfortunately, the solid door did not yield and he yelped in pain. A sturdy home, constructed out of wood and bricks, it had served the Tramer family throughout Leonard’s childhood and young adult life. When his parents moved to a retirement home in Florida, he inherited the house. Nothing could have satisfied him more. Staying put allowed him to build and rebuild the time machine in his bedroom closet. He could never move, at least not before his devastatingly disappointing visit to the past.
What will I do now?
In a moment of overwhelming grief, Leonard realized that he had no dreams outside the time machine. As his pointless obsession slipped into irrelevance, the void left in its wake suffocated him.

He glanced up and stepped back in shock. His office looked nothing like it had when he entered the closet. Tidy and charming, it appeared to be someone else’s home. No solder-covered desk sat in the corner. A neatly made queen-sized bed adorned with a floral bedspread stood in the center of one wall, flanked by two oak bedside tables. Leonard laid the fire extinguisher against the wall and cautiously opened the closet door. No longer smoking, it now contained dozens of shirts, pressed pants, and dresses.
Dresses?
He slammed the door and retreated several steps. Then he tentatively surveyed the walls. A Renoir print claimed the space that previously held a pair of Avalanche hockey sticks. Oddly, the impressionist painting hung above Leonard’s childhood dresser. It didn’t make sense. The nightstand clock read 5:13 p.m.
Impossible. This must be a dream.

A dream. Leonard so deserved a peaceful dream after years of unforgiving nightmares. He opened the door and stepped into the hallway. Similar unfamiliar decorations greeted him. He headed for the stairs, nearly slipping on the polished wooden floor. He heard voices coming from the dining room. Pleasant voices. Tears formed in the corners of Leonard’s eyes.
A happy dream.

“There you are,” a kind, female voice called. “Come. Before the food gets cold.”

Leonard’s heart leapt as he approached the table and the woman’s features came into focus. Her deep brown eyes stared into his astonished face.

“Alina?” he whispered.

The lovely woman cocked her head. “Don’t you look rugged tonight?”

Leonard glanced down at his disheveled clothing. He felt the stubble on his chin. Why, at this moment, did he have to look so unkempt?

The only woman he ever truly loved, Alina Marsh, sat at his dinning room table. Her long, dark hair as lustrous as he remembered and her smile as radiant. Soft crinkles around her eyes and a few creases here and there betrayed the passage of time, but she appeared not nearly as worn or broken as Leonard himself. He reached the table, gripped the back of the chair at the far end, and stared at his long-lost lover.

“Are you okay, Dad?” a young voice on Leonard’s left piped up.

He jolted and turned toward the voice. A girl, modestly touched by the signs of puberty, stared at him. She sat upright with a fork in one hand. Leonard smiled at the pretty young girl who looked so much like Alina — dark hair, caramel skin, and a delicate nose.
Did she say Dad?
Leonard choked back the tears. It was such a beautiful dream. The imaginary daughter had Leonard’s gray-blue eyes, eyes designed to guard secrets. She appeared to be eleven or twelve, and she wore a navy-blue hoodie with “DEPS 007934” written in bright white letters across the chest.

“I am absolutely wonderful…uh…” He did not know her name. “…darling.”

“Darling? Sit down and eat, Dad. You’re gaga.”

He took his seat and fumbled with his napkin. The meal consisted of a small meatloaf, canned peas, a weak broth that served as gravy, and a huge bowl of mashed potatoes. Nevertheless, it was a feast in Leonard’s eyes, for he rarely ate anything that did not emerge from a box and pass briefly through the microwave.

“Natalia, would you please pass the potatoes to your father?”

“Natalia. What a beautiful name,” Leonard said merrily.

Natalia froze, holding the bowl of potatoes mid-air. Two pairs of eyes gazed at Leonard, mildly concerned, shaking him from his musings and drawing his attention to how stupid he must sound. He wanted to enjoy the dream, relish the alternate reality it presented, so he needed to suspend logic and act like a credible father.

He cleared his throat. “Why don’t you tell me about your day, Nuh, Natalia. What were the highlights?” Leonard felt content, gazing at his daughter while sitting across from his only true love.
This is the life I could have had.
Suddenly, a wistful regret swept away his contentment.

“Highlights?” the girl stammered. “You want to know the highlights of my day?”

“Yeah, of course. Share something with us. Did you hear any juicy secrets? Did you learn something interesting?”

Natalia cocked her head to one side and drew her eyebrows together. Tears pooled at the edges of her eyes. Then she looked back at her mother with an expression of utter bewilderment. Alina shrugged.

“Thank you, Dad,” Natalia said finally. “I don’t know what to say. You have never asked me that before.”

Leonard’s breath caught in his throat. “Really?”

Natalia nodded knowingly before taking a bite of meatloaf. She chewed and swallowed hastily. “You’re always so distracted at the dinner table.” Taking a sip of water, the girl examined her father curiously over the rim of the glass. “But you’ve been different recently.”

“She’s right, Leonard. I’m tempted to ask you about your highlights. Anything new going on at the base? You’ve been more present these past few weeks.”

The base. What do I do?

Out in the real world, Leonard repaired and programmed computers. He spent most of the time in his home, either on his laptop clanking away, writing clever code, or at his solder-covered desk playing with electronics. He preferred tinkering and experimenting.

What is my career in this fantasy world? An electrical engineer?

Leonard looked at the ceiling for a moment before responding. “Oh, you know, testing, the usual. Nothing I toy with ever works as intended.”

Alina frowned and placed her fork and knife on the table purposefully. “Knock it off. First of all, I’m well aware that you cannot discuss your project, and you ought to know by now that I’d never ask.” She looked around the room as if searching for an eavesdropper. Then she glared at Leonard with an expression he could only decipher as admonishment. “Second of all, you don’t
toy with
things. You’re a genius.”

He stared at her. “I…uh…”

“What I’m really looking for is good gossip.” Her eyes lit up. “Nothing top-secret of course.”

Leonard frowned slightly and looked from Alina to Natalia. The girl took a sip of water, stared at her plate, and shook her head disapprovingly. Then she looked up at her father and rolled her eyes subtly. When she returned her attention to her meatloaf, he could have sworn she glanced stealthily to the left and right.

“Anyway,” Alina continued, “let’s get back to the ‘What are your highlights?’ version of my Leonard. I was kind of intrigued by him.” She smiled warmly. “So, Natalia, your father was asking about your day. Do you have a highlight you’d like to share?”

Natalia regarded her mother and father, each in turn. “It’s more of a lowlight. Can I share a lowlight instead?”

Leonard reached out and touched his daughter’s hand. “Of course, darling. Whatever you want to talk about.”

Natalia chuckled, but her voice quavered when she attempted to mock him. “Darling. Gaga, Dad.” Her body shuddered slightly as she held back an emotional release. Staring at the table, she bit her lip, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. “Linda’s not talking to me. She’s been ignoring me for several days now.”

Alina’s face softened. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

“I think she’s pregnant. She’s been hanging out with the other pregnant girls.”

Pregnant?
Leonard had to censor himself. His first instinct was to ask how old Natalia was, not an appropriate question for a father, especially when the girl obviously found him aloof and out of touch. “How old is Linda?” he asked instead.

Natalia glared at him. “Thirteen, Dad. Two weeks older than me, the same as it’s been ever since we were born.” The young girl’s eyes flashed from sadness to anger. She scowled at him, shaking her head. “It’s like you’ve been in a coma ever since you went to work for the DID.”

“Natalia,” her mother cautioned, catching her daughter’s eyes and locking them in a gaze.

“Sorry, Dad. I know you work hard.” She mashed her peas with her fork. An oppressive silence lingered. When Natalia spoke again, she sounded calmer. “I’ll drop a hint, since you’re clearly in another universe most of the time. Linda just
turned
thirteen.” She spoke slowly, pausing to confirm that her father was paying attention. “Which means my birthday might be coming up soon…sometime around September seventeenth perhaps?”

He nodded, playing along. “Of course I remember.”

“And what you promised me?”

“Absolutely,” he lied, hoping it wasn’t birth control pills. He was vaguely aware that tweens were having sex these days, but since he was an obsessed recluse with no children, the idea had not shaken him until that very moment.

“The seventeenth…that’s uh…”

“Thursday, Leonard,” his wife said dryly.

What’s today?
he wondered.

“I’ve been saving gas rations,” Alina said, addressing her daughter. “I won’t let him forget.”

Natalia nodded, apparently satisfied with this information.

The conversation stalled. Leonard was confused, but he didn’t want to reveal the depth of his bewilderment. Perhaps he had planned a trip with Natalia. It would make sense given the
gas rations
comment. Gazing appreciatively at his beautiful daughter, he willed the dream to last long enough for him to find out. Then his face darkened. “I hope I don’t have to worry about you.”

“Worry?”

“You know,” he stammered. “If your friend is…”

Natalia glowered. “If my friend is pregnant and her friends are pregnant, you assume I’ll be next?”

“Well—”

“I hate those girls. They think they’re better than the rest of us.”

“They want to care for a baby at their age?” Leonard asked, incredulous.

“CAPERS will place them in a DCF,” Natalia said matter-of-factly. She frowned; then she mumbled something under her breath.

Alina narrowed her eyes. “Those girls are not better than you. They’re foolish. I see so many pregnant teenagers at the hospital.” She shook her head despondently.

At the mention of
hospital,
Leonard’s brain raced, recalling facts and memories that had been tucked away for ages. Alina and Leonard broke up right after she received her bachelor’s degree. Leonard had graduated three years earlier, but he was still devastated by the shame of causing the accident that claimed Tommy Richardson’s life. He gave up on his plans for graduate school. Instead — armed with a computer science degree, a minor in physics, and hours in the electronics lab — Leonard retreated into his newfound obsession. By the time Alina graduated and was accepted into the University of Colorado Medical School, she had grown tired of the detached, fanatical man she once called her best friend.

He didn’t even try to pursue her when she left. One evening, saying not a word, she touched him gently on the shoulder, kissed him tenderly on the cheek, and walked out the door. He stood motionless for fifteen minutes wondering if he should run after her. Then he returned to his desk, pulled out a notebook, and worked for three days straight — driving her from his mind and chaining himself to his futile mission.

“You became a doctor,” Leonard said joyfully, abruptly emerging from his memories and rejoining his fantasy family.

Both female jaws dropped simultaneously.

Embarrassed, Leonard said, “I mean, listen to your mother. She’s a doctor. There’ll be plenty of time for boys in the future. You can start a family when you’re older and wiser.”

“A family?” Natalia said, puzzled.

Just then, a door opened and someone entered the foyer.

Alina shifted awkwardly in her chair. “Garrett,” she called down the hall. “Would you like me to heat up the meatloaf?”

A scuffing sound approached. Leonard glanced over his shoulder as a teenage boy shuffled into the room. Tattered jeans enveloped his dirty sneakers. The boy looked about fifteen. Leonard presumed he was his son. Except for brown eyes, the teenager had undoubtedly inherited his father’s looks with fairer skin and a bigger nose than his sister. The boy’s mousy brown hair was short except several long strands that hung precariously near his eyes. A haughty, annoyed expression marred his features.

“I don’t want any of your stupid oatmeal-loaf.”

Alina took a deep breath and glared at her son. “Garrett, if you don’t wish to join us for dinner, you need to call.”

“Whatever.”

Leonard glanced at Alina apprehensively. Her previously bright face darkened. She looked several years older than she had when Leonard first approached the table.

The boy grabbed a chair, flipped it around and sat down, resting his chin on its back.

Alina raised one eyebrow. “Either sit at the table or go to your room.”

Garrett abruptly pushed back causing the chair to crash to the floor.

Leonard finally summoned his courage. “Treat your mother with some respect.” His voice boomed, filling the room. “And pick up that chair.”

The teenager regarded Leonard suspiciously. Eventually, his thin lips formed a faint smile. “Look who grew some balls overnight.”