Lost Time (Time Out)

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Lost Time (Time Out) Page 1

by Joshua Grant




  Lost Time

  Joshua Grant

  Copyright © 2013 by Joshua Grant

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the author at the address below.

  Joshua Grant

  2157 Murrell Road

  Lynchburg, VA 24501

  www.joshuagrantbooks.com

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Prologue

  You’ve heard the old saying, “God works in mysterious ways,” right? If I could sum up my life in a single sentence, I would probably use that one. The funny thing is, that for most people, they don’t realize what God was doing in their lives until long after the result of that work has actually come to pass.

  I was more fortunate. You might not know, but back in the day, I was a pretty rough guy. I wasn’t doing anything really bad like drugs, but I was the kind of guy that people would shake their head at and think what a waste of a life. Of course, God doesn’t see things the way we do. He saw the potential in me. Even to this day, I still can’t figure out why God chose me out of all the hard luck cases in the world.

  I’ve been keeping this story to myself a while, partly because I didn’t think anyone would believe me and partly because I didn’t believe myself to some extent. However, as I’m growing older, I want to share my story with you, the reader, before I get so old and grey that I can’t remember all the details. Whether this really happened or if it’s all in my mind, it still shows that God can change the heart of anyone, even someone who’s as stubborn and useless as I used to be. Looking back on it all, it’s hard to remember where one day ended and another began, but I’ll tell it to you the best I can.

  It all started when I decided to attend college. I had just barely graduated high school. I didn’t really want to go to college – I’d had enough of school - but I was forced into it by my parents. I figured I’d go since they were paying for it anyway. If I had known what lay in store for me, however, I might never have applied.

  Oh, I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Adam Johnson, and this is my story.

  Chapter 1

  We were only a few weeks away from Christmas break. Though I had only been in college for a few months, I was tired of it all. I had already mentally checked-out for the semester, glad that it was almost over. However, I still had one major hurdle to overcome – finals. At the moment, I was studying (make that cramming) for my first semester final exams coming up next week, and I had grown increasingly frustrated because I couldn’t seem to keep anything in my head. The difference between dangling participles and misplaced modifiers, historical dates and events, and the purpose of knowing plant biology went, as the saying goes, in one ear and out the other.

  To make matters worse, there was a rumor floating around campus that finals would be tougher this year due to the fact the college had recently hired several new professors. The final exam I most worried about was my Advanced Physics class. Yeah, I know what you’re thinking, you’d be nervous too, right? What was I doing taking Advanced Physics as a freshman? Let’s say that, when I wanted to, I could apply my mind to just about anything, and physics had always fascinated me. As for the other subjects… well, I was more than nervous. I was downright depressed! I woke up each morning and went to bed with a headache. The tension in my neck and shoulders left me irritable. Only with great difficulty could I fall asleep at night, listening to the rapid pounding of my heartbeat. No, I didn’t get much sleep at night, but for some reason, be it the lull of whispers, the monotone of a professor’s voice, or just pure exhaustion, I inevitably fell asleep in class, only to jerk myself awake with a start at the sound of a cough or a nearby snicker. It didn’t help that I had slept my way through half my classes this semester, not because I was especially tired, but because of sheer boredom. Okay, I’ll be honest… I have been known to attend a party or two.

  You know, Satan picks the worst times (from our perspective) to try to lure us into sin, and he certainly didn’t waste any opportunities to do so with me. For the past few hours, I had been thinking of ‘other’ ways I could pass the test. Could I steal answers from someone sitting next to me? No, there was too great of a risk that my professor would see that and leave me open for suspension or expulsion, not to mention an instant failure of the class and the necessity to retake it next semester.

  It was then that the idea popped into my head. All I had to do was steal the exam answers from my professor’s office. Simple! After all, I did part-time janitorial work in a work-study program, and one of the rooms I cleaned was his office. I bet by now you’re thinking that I wanted to steal a copy of the exam. Well, you’re right… sort of. I struggled with this idea for hours. “How could I do something like that?” I thought. “Stealing a copy of the final exam could get me expelled!” I tried turning on music, watching a movie, and going for a short drive to clear my head of such a crazy idea, but nothing seemed to help.

  At 9:00 that night, the little devil on my shoulder got the best of me. I knew when the campus police had a shift change. One of my friends used to be on their force, so I figured it was perfect timing. The shifts would be overlapping, and officers would probably be busy filing end-of-the-day paperwork. I had about thirty minutes, tops. Under the cover of darkness, I left my dormitory and made my way toward the academic buildings.

  It was a quiet night, with only the sound of the wind rustling through the treetops, scattering leaves beneath my feet and of distant cars on the parkway to keep me company. It was so quiet, it was almost as if God was leaving me alone with my thoughts so that I could more carefully consider if I wanted to go through with this. Of course, I knew the difference between right and wrong, but I was desperate. I considered, and then decided to continue with my plan.

  Once I made it into the building that housed my professor's office, I slowly turned the knob. As I thought it would be, the door was unlocked. I quietly went inside, making sure the door didn’t slam shut behind me. Perhaps somewhere in the building, another professor burned the midnight oil grading student homework assignments and term papers. I had a key for the office, and fingered it in my pocket. The hallways were even quieter than the outside. Even though I wore my Converse tennis shoes, I felt like every step I took down the hallway echoed like a gunshot. After a few tense moments wondering if I'd get caught, I made it to my professor's office. I reached into my pocket and clasped my janitor’s key ring, squeezing the keys together to prevent them from making noise. I peered down at the two dozen keys on the ring, each with a sticker designating a door number for this building. I quickly searched the keys until I found the one marked with the professor’s office. Taking a deep breath, knowing this was my last chance to leave, I instead exhaled and inserted the key into the keyhole in the doorknob and unlocked the door.

  I quickly entered and then stepped to the side of the door, closing it, but not tightly. A light installed in the hallway opposite the professor’s door illuminated his office with a dull glow, and once my eyes adjusted to the dark I was pleasantly surprised by how well I could see. The first thing I noticed was the odor, a cross between stale coffee and chalk. I was fa
miliar with this odor, since I had been here in the office countless times under less criminal intentions, but the smell still stung my nostrils every time. I carefully tiptoed toward his desk in the far corner of the room, but after only a few steps, I stopped dead in my tracks. What was that sound? Were they footsteps? I quickly ducked behind the desk as a flashlight swept across the glazed window in the top half of the door, shining a bright ray of light across the room. I was reminded of those old prison escape movies where the inmate is silhouetted by a spotlight against a brick wall. A head poked in through the door, which I had left slightly ajar.

  “Just an open door. Professor forgot to close it before he left for the night,” the campus police officer said into his walkie-talkie.

  I held my breath as he stepped further into the office and took a cursory glance around. If I moved, he would surely hear me. To my relief, he shrugged and left just as quickly as he appeared. Still, I waited, hunched behind the cover of the desk a few minutes after he had left just to make sure he was gone. My heart pounded like a jackhammer and my hands trembled slightly as I closed my eyes and heaved a long, slow sigh of relief, which was probably why I didn't notice the oddity under my professor's desk right away .

  I braced my hands on the edge of the desk to heave myself to my feet when I felt something odd under the lip, near the professor’s chair. Upon further exploration, I realized push button had been installed under the desk, easily within easy reach for someone sitting at the desk – if they knew where it was. It felt like the type of a silent alarm button you might find installed in a bank as a panic alarm to alert police to a robbery. Curious, I reached into my pocket and pulled out my small pen flashlight to get a closer look, only after making sure I saw no sign of the campus police out in the hallway. Cupping my hand around the glow, I twisted down to get a better look at the button. It looked especially out of place because the desk itself was constructed of solid oak, and looked like an antique. Instinctively, I touched the button, curious to see what would happen. I heard a soft click, and then a slight whooshing noise, similar to that of an elevator door opening, without the dings, and then jerked upright when I realized that the bookshelf behind me started to move. I spun around, heart pounding in alarm and excitement as I watched the bookcase recede receded about six inches into the wall, then move sideways about two feet. Behind the bookshelf yawned a small, dark room. Being the curious person that I am, I couldn't resist investigating. I turned my flashlight so it shone into the room, which stood nearly empty.

  A secret room in my professor's office? This was either going to be very scandalous or very creepy, I thought. To my disappointment, a plain wooden table with what appeared to be a TV remote on it were the only things in the room. Odd, I thought, considering there was no TV in the room. On closer inspection, however, I realized that this was no ordinary remote. I picked it up for closer examination. Some buttons looked familiar, such as the numbers, but it also had several letters, a fast-forward and rewind button, a button labeled “Activate”, and a small display screen at the top of the device. “Weird,” I muttered. I had never seen this kind of remote before, if you could even call it a remote.

  One of the many buttons I noticed was labeled, "OT". I had no idea what that function was for, so I pressed it to see what would happen. I was prompted on the display screen to "Input desired starting location". An odd command for a TV remote if ever there was one, I thought, beginning to lose interest in what I thought was a boring piece of junk. I was after something else. However, as I placed the remote back onto the table, I accidently hit the "1" button. To my surprise, something odd happened. The number “300” appeared on the LCD display. That wasn’t what I had typed in, and figured the thing must be broken. I felt oddly disappointed. Then, to my surprise, the numbers started changing! 299, 298, 297 (well, you get the idea). I realized that it was now counting down to something… but what? A sudden blaze of light infused the room.

  “What are you doing in my office!”

  The voice from behind me caused me to freeze in my tracks, paralyzed with fear. I knew that voice, but feared turning around to confirm my assumption. Slowly, I sighed in resignation, and against my body’s wishes, which screamed at me to stay still, I turned around, and indeed my assumption was confirmed. My professor stood behind me, frowning.

  “I… I… I…” I stammered.

  My professor glanced down at the table. “I see you found my temporal oscillation manipulator,” he said.

  ‘What?”

  “My T.O.M.”

  He made no move toward me, but gazed at me with an appraising eye. “Aren’t you mad at me?” I asked, shocked that he wasn’t reaching for his phone to call the campus police to come arrest me.

  “You bet I am! If it wasn’t for the fact that you found this device, you’d already be on your way to the police and receive a failing grade in my class!” he shouted.

  In a moment, his features transformed from quiet rage to a calm that I couldn't explain.

  He continued. “But since you discovered this, “I might as well tell you what it is. This is something I’ve been working on ever since I was your age.”

  The professor relaxed, leaning against the side of the secret doorway. After all, I was stuck inside, unable to get past him.

  “You see, since I was a little boy, I had always wondered what it would be like if I could’ve been a witness to all of my favorite Bible stories; to actually be there and carry on a conversation with some of the Bible’s greatest heroes. It became somewhat of an obsession for me. That’s why I invented this. It took me forty years and almost all of my savings, but I finally did it. That’s why I became a professor in advanced physics; it took a lot of precise calculations to make this work.”

  Relaxing myself, forgetting that I had come here to steal, my curiosity once again got the best of me. “But what does it do?” I asked.

  “Oh, that’s simple.” he said casually, as if it was something everyone knew. “This device will transport you to a set of preprogrammed locations from the Bible. The fast-forward and rewind buttons, used along with the numbers on the device, can help you reverse or fast-forward time during your travels."

  “Time travel?” I asked, stunned. “So if I used this device, I’d actually be in the story, not just watching it as an outside spectator?” I felt skeptical. No way could this be possible, right?

  “Yes. Imagine the possibilities, my boy!” the professor straightened, his voice growing excited. “You’ll be able to talk with Noah about the weather. You’ll be able to ask Samson what gym he goes to. You’ll be able to ask Job what his job was. You’ll be able to play polo with the four horsemen of the apocalypse. Get the picture?”

  “Yes,” I mumbled. I had no clue what to say. Actually, I was speechless. Was this guy for real? He couldn’t be… could he?

  “I see that it’s counting down,” he said, nodding toward the device. “What did you type in?”

  I looked down at the device. It was already on 60. “I pressed the "1" button,” I said.

  “Well, it looks like you’re going to have a fun time,” my professor said, his tone slightly sarcastic. “You don’t have much time left, so I’ll leave you with only one rule for using this device, since you already activated it. Nothing I can do to stop it now, after all.“

  “What?” I asked, straightening in alarm. “Wait… what’s going to happen?“

  “Do not, under any circumstances, interfere with the timeline. God’s plan is perfect, and everything that happened did so for a reason. No matter how much you might want to interfere, don’t. It will be very hard not to at times, but you absolutely must not. Okay?”

  “Okay.” I agreed. “But what—“

  "I'll be back," he interrupted.

  I stood stunned as he turned and walked out of his office, closing and locking the door from the outside.

  That was weird. I glanced down at the remote, slowly counting down. How could I visit all of his favorite sto
ries from the Bible? I didn’t believe a word of it. The professor was crazy! No way had he invented a time travel device… had he?

  If my professor was for real, I couldn't imagine why he would entrust such a device to me. The power to travel through time? There are people who would sell all that they had for this opportunity! Brief thoughts of selling the device for billions of dollars entered my mind, but just as quickly left when I looked at the countdown on the display screen. Just as I looked, the number "5" appeared on the screen. It then changed. Four, three, two, one… ZAP!

  A stream of pure light shot out of the tip of the device like an arc of electricity and hit the opposite wall. Once it made contact, it continued to spread out until it created a rippling circle of what I would term energy waves almost five feet in diameter. The circle itself looked the same as the wall behind it, except for the fact that the energy creating the circle was translucent and shimmering like the surface of a lake on a warm summer day. I stood frozen, staring wide-eyed at it. This couldn’t be for real! No way… but yet, there it was. I stepped closer to inspect it. I slowly extended my hand until it hovered just above the undulating circle of energy. What should I call this? An event horizon? A portal? It had a slight charge to it, as I saw the hairs on my arm standing on end. My body seemed to tingle.

  Then, I noticed that the circle had begun to shrink, ever so slowly at first, but then faster. In a minute or two, the hole would probably be gone. “Well, it’s now or never, I suppose,” I said to the room at large.

  I backed up to get one last view of the entire phenomenon. Gathering all of my determination, I decided to check it out. I overcame the shock and awe that had descended on me at the sight of the portal and leapt into the circle of light. I closed my eyes and braced for impact, expecting to hit the wall behind it.

  Instead of hitting the wall, I felt myself moving forward, my momentum forcing me to take large steps to maintain my balance.

 

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