The Navigators (11 page)

“Peeky-”

“I could go on and on. Why are you wasting your time with Roger?”

Melissa tapped the steering wheel. “Roger and I… we aren’t serious. We haven’t been for a long time.”

“Does Roger know that?”

“Oh, I don’t know...” She was quiet for a moment. “He
should
. No, he
does
. Deep down, he does.” She scanned the ceiling as she threw her hands out from her sides. “He’s just like, I don’t know. It’s just…”

“Convenient?”

“No. Maybe.”

“Familiar?
Easy
?”

“Stop it! We’re broken up. We’ve broken up a half dozen times. It’s just sometimes… I mean, I get lonely, and... sometimes I’m weak.”

“You
settle
. An occasional side fling with a guy you thought had a girlfriend.”

She let the words resonate and took a deep breath. Then she shot me a glance. “But you’re wrong about that other stuff. Barry doesn’t think of me that way.”

I stared out the window at the passing street lights. “I’m not wrong. Open your eyes.”

“Stop, already. This is too much for one evening. I was nervous enough meeting Janice for the first real time, now this. It’s too much.”

“Fine. It’s none of my business.” I kept my gaze focused outside. “But don’t try to pretend.”

* * * * *

“You hid behind the couch?” Riff was incredulous.

“Trust me, that’s where you want to be.” Barry bit his fingernail.

“I think I’m all set here.” Roger looked over at them. “Let’s light this candle!”

Barry ignored him and continued explaining the makeshift procedures to Riff. “The bright flash and the loud noise – that’s why we got the ear plugs and the welder’s goggles.”

“Engaging gears,” Roger announced.

Riff watched carefully as Roger moved the levers into place. “And it was-”

The whining of the machine overwhelmed Riff’s words. He raised his voice. “And it was enough protection?”

The screeching got louder. Barry shouted. “We didn’t have any protection the first time. We just videoed the clock, that’s all.”

Then it dawned on him. He knew what he’d forgotten. “Oh, my God.”

“What’s wrong?”

Barry waved at Roger. The noise quickly grew deafening, even with the earplugs. “Roger! Stop!”

Roger glanced over, a blank look on his face. He gave a thumbs up. Barry waved his arms wildly.

Then there was a brilliant, blinding flash.

And Roger spilled out of the machine, covered in blood.

* * * * *

The rest of the ride was quiet. We’d inadvertently talked with Janice right through dinner without even eating. Maybe our exhaustion had caught up with us. Maybe we’d experienced enough emotions for one day. When we stopped at Radio Shack for the earplugs and welder goggles, Melissa just said “I’ll be right back” and went in without me.

The ride to Barry’s felt even more awkward after that, but maybe I deserved it.

I followed her up the stairs and through the door into the dark apartment. Melissa placed the plastic shopping bag on the table and flipped on the light. I spotted a note in Barry’s handwriting.

“Took Roger to the ER. It’s serious. Call, don’t come.”

Melissa balled her fists. “‘Call me?’ If it’s so serious, why didn’t
he
call
me
?”

I glanced at the note. The words “don’t come” were underlined twice.

She pulled out her cell phone and her face went flush. “Oh my God. I turned my phone off for the interview.”

“You still would have noticed something if it was on vibrate.”

“No, I turned it
off
off! So we wouldn’t be interrupted.” She pressed the power button. The phone began to glow as it powered up.

It pinged with missed calls. “Call me” and “Barry 911” texts illuminated the screen.

Then the voicemail icon lit up. Three messages.

She pressed “play.”

Barry’s voice shouted over some static. “Melissa! It’s Barry. Call me as soon as you get this.”

The next message was the same. He was almost yelling, probably driving while he spoke.

“Melissa! It’s Barry. We’re taking Roger to the hospital. To the ER. He’s hurt pretty bad, but
don’t
come to the hospital! Somebody has to stay with the machine, and you and Peeky can move it if you have to. It’s not heavy.”

In the next message, he was nearly whispering, but just as intense.

“Melissa where are you? We’re at the hospital. Roger’s in intensive care and I can’t take a cell phone in there. My battery’s almost dead anyway. If you get this in time,
stay with the machine
. You and Peeky can move it if you have to. If anything happens, just take it next door to Jonesy’s. She’s out of town and won’t mind, okay? I have to stay here with Roger because they won’t let Riff back in. I’ll update you when I can.
Stay with the machine!”

Melissa looked at me. “What do you think happened?”

“Barry said Riff wasn’t allowed in. Call Riff, then.”

She dialed quickly. “It’s going straight to voicemail. What the fuck’s with these guys?”

“Leave a message.”

“Riff, it’s Melissa. Peeky and I are at the apartment with the machine. Call me.”

She hung up.

What the hell was going on?

* * * * *

“Are you a mass murderer or something?”

Barry sat up, snapped out of his haze by a loud, authoritative voice in the ER.

“How many friends of yours are you going to bring into my hospital all bloodied up?”

Good god. Dr. Harper. Again.

Barry stood and collected himself. “Good evening, doctor.”

Dr. Harper ignored the greeting and glanced around. “Where’s that young lady and your other friend? You probably buried them in a ditch somewhere.”

“No, sir, I – uh, we-”

Harper folded his arms. “Yes, yes, go ahead. I’ll wait. Make it something more interesting than rock climbing, this time, though.”

If you only knew, doctor.

“What’s that?”

Barry shook his head. “Uh, I was asking how’s Roger?”

“He’s in rough shape but I think he’ll survive—no thanks to you.” Dr. Harper opened his clipboard, interrupting himself to glare at Barry over his reading glasses. “I’m starting to worry about that little group you’re running around with. We get those cases in here from time to time. Thrill seekers. People who like to wreck cars – with themselves in it. All for some kind of sick sexual rush.”

“Can I see him?”

“So you can finish the job?”

“Doctor, please.”

Harper huffed. “The only reason I’m going to let you see him is because he asked for you specifically. Otherwise, I’d be calling the cops. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” Barry exhaled, weary of the give and take. “Thank you.”

“Right through there.” Dr. Harper grumbled as he watched Barry walk toward Roger’s room. He folded his arms over his clipboard, muttering. “Bunch of sick mothers, I’ll tell you.”

Catching a glimpse of Roger through the doorway, Barry halted and put his hands out to balance himself. The sight made his breath catch in his throat. Even with the room lights dimmed, Barry could see that Roger was all bruised and purple and bloody. His eyes were swollen shut. Tubes ran out of him to various machines.

Roger slowly turned his head to the door. His hand, barely able to lift off the bed, motioned Barry inside.

Each breath Roger took was assisted by a machine. It hissed and clicked with every labored rise and fall of his chest.

Barry stepped to the bedside and placed his hands on the rails. “Tell me what happened.”

The breathing machine hissed again as Roger tried to speak. He could only manage a small groan.

Hiss, click.

Roger tried again, straining to raise his head. Barry leaned in.

Hiss, click.

Roger’s voice was a weak, raspy whisper.

“It’s not a viewer.”

Chapter Fourteen

M
y cell phone rang with an incoming call. Riff’s name appeared on the screen.

“Who is it?” Melissa asked, grabbing my phone.

“It’s… Riff.”

She swiped her finger across the screen and mashed the speaker icon. “Hello?”

“Melissa? What the fuck? Did I misdial? Where’s Peeky?”

“He’s right here. Tell me what’s going on.”

“We’ve been trying to call you guys for, like, two hours. I thought you fucking got arrested or something.”

“I turned my phone off.”

“Why the fuck did you do that? You were supposed to be getting supplies! Everybody wondered what happened to you two.”

“Riff, calm down. Tell me what happened.”

“Oh, man,” Riff continued. “Roger got messed up, big time. That time machine is a motherfucker. It beat the crap out of him.”

“What? How did that happen? Did they try to test it again?”

“Yeah. It was fucked up, too. Roger was burning to try the thing out. It’s supposed to be a viewer, you know? So you can just go see the reflected light from a prior event, like watching a movie or some shit? Barry tried to talk him out of it...”

“What did he do?”

“He waited until you were gone and then he said he wanted to try it.”

“And Barry let him? Are they crazy? The first test nearly gave us all concussions.”

“There was no stopping him. That’s why Barry made him wear earplugs and welder goggles. ”

“Where did he get those?”

“Radio Shack. We tried to call you.”

She frowned. “Then what happened?”

“It was loud, like you said. And the big flash. It was intense. I think we still might have gotten concussions. That thing is definitely a self-limiting use vehicle.” Static crackled over the line. “Listen, I’m on my way to get some of Roger’s stuff and take it to him at the hospital. I’ll head back over to the apartment afterwards and meet you guys, okay? Just stay put.”

“Riff, what did the doctors say? Is Roger hurt bad?”

He wasn’t there. The call had dropped.

* * * * *

“Roger, can you talk? Can you tell me what happened?”

He had bruises everywhere. Temporary air casts held his broken legs in place. Bandages closed wounds. His ribs were taped; his arms and head were wrapped in gauze. Swollen and lame, he was barely recognizable as the cocky athlete he had been just a few hours ago.

Roger pushed himself up in the hospital bed, shooting a sharp wince across his face and spraying saliva onto his chin. His breath came in short, painful bites. “I made it.”

“Take it easy.” Barry reached behind Roger and adjusted the pillows. “What do you mean?”

A grin tugged at the corner of Roger’s swollen mouth, but his answer was a spoken groan. “Rome. I was there.”

Barry’s jaw dropped. “Get the hell out! What did you see?”

“Everything.” He whispered. “We nailed it. I was right there. Big columns, all painted in bright colors. A big room, with banners.”

Barry was amazed. Roger had seen ancient Rome. “Go on! Did you see Caesar?””

Roger closed his eyes and barely moved his head back and forth. “It was hot. Smelly. They saw me right away.”

“Who’s ‘they’?”

Roger grimaced. “Fucking Roman guard. Soldiers. Palace guard or something.”

He wheezed a little and licked his lips. Barry grabbed a cup from the bedside tray and held the straw up to Roger’s mouth.

“They were on me in a minute. A ton of them.” Roger groaned. “I never had a chance.”

He took a sip.

“I fucked up. I was completely out of place. Jeans. T-shirt. Not speaking fucking Latin.” He managed a slight chuckle, immediately followed by a wince.

“That’s amazing, Rog,” Barry said. “Amazing. You’re a pioneer, now. A hero, or something.”

Roger groaned. “I’m a fuckup. Look at me.”

Purple welts rose from every spot on his bruised, swollen body. The visible skin that wasn’t covered in bruises was covered in blood.

“Roger, I… I’m so sorry, man.” Barry swallowed, the words catching in his throat. “This, what happened to you—it’s my fault. We should have known it wasn’t a viewer. The time on the clock changed during the test. That wouldn’t have happened if it was just a viewer. I should have known that.” He lowered his head. “I should have stopped you.”

Roger closed his eyes. “You tried.”

A nurse appeared at the door. “Sir, I’m afraid he’s had enough for one night. You should go. Your friend needs his rest.”

“Okay.” Barry stepped away, unable to take his eyes from his bloody, beaten friend.

She slipped a syringe into the IV. “This is for the pain. He won’t be awake much longer.”

Roger uttered something. He was weak and fading fast.

Barry leaned in again. “What is it, Roger?”

“Learn,” he rasped. “Learn from this.”

* * * * *

Melissa paced around the living room. “We should get over there.”

“No, they said to stay here. If Roger were at death’s door, they’d have said that. In the messages, Barry said stay with the machine.”

She plopped down on Barry’s couch, frustrated. “Ugh! A week ago, my life seemed perfect! Now, everything’s all messed up! School, the project…
men!”

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “You need some sleep.”

“I’m too wound up to sleep.”

“A drink, then.”

“What do you have? Or, what does Barry have around here?”

“I am from India, my friend. We shall consume the only thing that a truly civilized person
should
drink at this late hour.”

“Rum and Coke?” Melissa asked.

I frowned at her.

“Rum and Pepsi?”

“Tea.” I wagged a finger at her and moved to the kitchen, opening a cupboard. “In India, we drink more tea per capita than any other country.”

A frown flashed across her face. “Um, I don’t think that’s true…”

“Well, if it isn’t true, it should be. Here.” I handed her a cup and returned to the kitchen. “Don’t try to solve all your problems at once. It doesn’t work.”

“Yeah…”

“Now, regarding your problems with men…” I took out the teapot. “Dating men is like shopping for a convertible car.”

“Don't I know it.” Melissa sighed. “They're always trying to take the top down.”

I smiled. “I mean, it’s like that commercial for the Auto Trader. The announcer says, ‘Show me all the green cars’ and a thousand green cars show up. Then he narrows it to cars with two doors, and there are still two hundred green cars with two doors, you know? You keep narrowing it down until you find the right one for you. The sports car may look good, but you can't put kids and groceries in it.”

She chuckled. “It’s a fun ride, though.”

“For a while, sure. In time, your needs change and so do your interests . . . so you must be selective—but open minded. Of course, you can try several before deciding on the one that is right for you. Isn't that what you are doing now?”

“You make it sound so easy.” She slouched further down into Barry’s couch. Slipping off her shoes and perching her feet on the edge of the coffee table, Melissa stared absently at the oval bronze machine across the room.

I shook my head. “Matters of love can be far from easy, but they are a worthwhile pursuit—and a necessary one—if you can be clear-eyed and honest enough to truly pursue the right thing.”

“That can be scary. If you blow it, you've lost
the one
.”

“Hmm. You don't strike me as a girl who’s afraid of very many things.”

“I hide it pretty well.” She shifted on the couch to focus directly on me. “What would you do if you were me?”

“About men? That's difficult. But anyone can see Roger is not the best choice for you. Not for the long term.”

“No...” she whispered, looking away. “I know.”

“Do you want to know what my father said to me when I was a young man and I asked him how to pick the right wife?”

“What did he say?”

“He said, ‘Ask your mother.’”

Melissa laughed.

“But he was serious,” I said. “After all, who better to find a woman for her son?”

It was working. Melissa’s face brightened and her smile returned. “What did your mom say?”

“She said, ‘Ask your dad.’ I think they wanted to avoid the conversation.”

Melissa chuckled.

“No, my mother said physical beauty is a sign of good health, and for thousands of years it was what caused a young man’s fancy to turn to thoughts of love. Or lust. I forget which.”

“Stop it.” Melissa put her hand on my knee and shoved. “I’m trying to be serious here.”

“She cautioned me, though. She told me physical beauty does not last, and
should
not last. ‘A beautiful woman’s breasts will eventually sag and her hair will turn gray. What will you be married to then? If you choose wisely, you will be married to a beautiful personality and a curious mind that loves your children and who would do anything for you.’ That is true beauty.”

“Hmmm.” Melissa closed her eyes, appearing to postulate on the idea.

“I know. Where’s the fun in that, right?”

“Well…”

“Relax,” I said. “It isn’t easy. You are a beautiful young woman who’s had men throwing themselves at you all your life. That makes it hard to know who cares about you for
you
, and who just wants to be seen dating an important lawyer’s daughter… ”

She nestled her head into the back cushion. “You’re quite a good girlfriend, Peeky.”

“Thank you. I grew up with three sisters. I learned a few things.”

The teapot whistled from the kitchen. I rose to tend to it. “Now, think of all the men you know.”

“What, guys I could date?”

“Well, yes. Let’s not get all gross and Oedipal here. Break it down. Whose intellect at school do you respect the most? And who would put your needs above their own? And do not say Roger or I’m leaving.”

She laughed. “No, definitely not Roger. He is totally out for himself.”

A long moment passed. Melissa cradled her cup in her lap, letting the wheels turn.

When it seemed like she had arrived at an answer, I still had to pull it out of her. “So? When you think of all the men you know, and trust, and who enjoy your company, who among them would put their own needs aside? Who would do anything for you?”

“Barry,” she whispered. “Barry would do anything for me.” She peered up at me. There were tears forming in her eyes. “But he doesn’t think of me like that.”

“Doesn’t he, Baloo? Are you sure?”

My reply surprised her. She let it sink in. “No, I'm not sure...”

I smiled. “Then I’d say maybe it’s time for a test drive.”

“What if kissing Barry is like that phrase, ‘like kissing my brother’?”

“You don’t
have
a brother, and I don’t think you have to worry about that. I kiss my sister every time I see her when I return home. Barry won’t kiss you like that. I’ve seen the way you look at him, too, you know. When you think nobody’s noticing. But saying things like that keeps it all safe, doesn't it?”

She nodded.

“It's like this infernal machine.” I waved my hand at the bronze metal egg. “We never built one, because we didn’t think along those lines. But somebody else did, and now here it is.”

She smiled and blinked back her tears. “Peeky, I don’t think I’ve had a conversation like that ever, with anybody.”

“But you had a conversation with yourself.” I rose, taking a blanket from the closet. “I just asked some questions.”

“Your wife is really lucky to have you. Your daughter, too.” She started to drift off. “You’re a good dad, Peeky . . . I can tell . . . .”

I draped the blanket over her. Then we sat there, the two of us, exhausted and sleepy, staring over at the time machine, daydreaming about it until our real dreams crept in and put us both to sleep.