by Eric Nixon
Once the power coupler was replaced and the soda spill was cleaned, I logged in and started the diagnostic program that would test to make sure all systems were running normally. As the computer chugged along, I sat and stared through the window at the steel doorway in the next room. Tomorrow afternoon I would be stepping up onto the riser, walking through the doorway, and entering into the past to save June. Just one more day.
I almost didn’t get this chance. A few months ago, when she died, they had me undergo a complete psychological evaluation before I could return to work. Understandably, the higher-ups were concerned that I would try something “rash” like use The Machine to go into the past and save her. In the end they decided that since June and I had only been dating for less than a year, weren’t living together, and were not married, that my chances of doing something “rash” weren’t worth worrying about. Of course, I didn’t tell them about my plans of buying a ring. That would have been the kind of thing to complicate matters and make them relocate me far away from my work and my destiny.
“Hey. What’cha doing?”
I must have been zoning out, staring at The Machine because her voice startled me. I looked up at Dr. Patel and said, “Oh, hey. Sorry, just zoning out while running the diagnostic on the system.”
She smiled, “So, Dr. Goodwin really did spill something on the control panel? I heard a rumor, but I didn’t think he would be dumb enough to actually have done it.”
I showed her a cleaning rag stained a pale green. “Well, to be fair, I don’t think I’d say he was dumb, just kinda klutzy.”
She shook her head, “No, it’s dumb. Especially after the incident with the Cheetos-smeared refractors. Plus, it means he can’t read.” She pointed at the printed out sign taped to the wall behind me which read, NO FOOD OR DRINK in the control room. Below that, someone had hand-written, This means you, Bruce Goodwin!
I agreed with her, “No, I guess you’re right. He can’t read. I wonder how a scientist with a doctorate, who can’t read, got a job here?”
She laughed and said, “It makes you wonder where he got his doctorate from. Maybe he went to Snack U.?” After a fresh bout of laughter faded, she changed the subject to what was really on her mind. “So, do you think it’s going to be ready for my experiment at 1pm?”
Coincidentally, the computer chirped. I looked at the monitor to verify the status of the diagnostic, and smiled at her. “Actually, it’s ready to go now, if you want.”
She looked at the large digital clock on the wall and said, “Nah, I’ll wait until one. Dr. Mason’s ordered pizza for lunch. In fact, it should probably be here already. You coming up to the break room now?”
“Yeah, I just need to pick up. I’ll see you up there in a few minutes.”
She smiled and left. The hallway door closed solidly behind her.
***
