by Eric Nixon
I picked up my things, headed to my office, and thought how much I love pizza day. In my head I sang my little, “I Love Pizza,” song as I walked up the hallway:
I love pizza
Yum, yum, yum!
I love pizza
It’s really fun
I love pizza
I never want to be done
I love pizza
Yum, yum, yum!
Ok, so it’s not Grammy-worthy or anything, and I wrote it when I was like five, but it still plays in my head whenever I have pizza.
I juggled my tools to free up a hand, slid the card in the reader, and went into the maintenance office. After dropping my tools on the desk, I lingered for a moment to check my email and see if there were any other work orders. That was when the piercing sound of a woman screaming jolted me like a falling, plugged-in hairdryer into a bathtub.
The scream, coming from the hallway, was abruptly cut off with a wet smacking sound that further chilled the cold fear that had gripped me from the scream. I cocked my ear to hear footsteps slapping hard on the linoleum floor as someone ran down the hallway in my direction. I tensed up and grabbed the closest weapon-like thing, a long flashlight, and jerked open the door.
The man holding the pizza box was clearly surprised that someone was coming out of my office and I was equally surprised when he swung a stun gun at me, crackling with angry bolts of electricity.
Instinctively, I fell backwards swinging my Maglite up to try and protect myself, successfully catching him off-guard and deflecting the stun gun. The weapon was knocked free from his hand and flew harmlessly through the air in one direction, as the assailant lost his balance and tumbled. His legs, in mid-air was the last I saw as I fell back, landing hard on my office floor. With a click, the door politely self-closed, separating me from the attacker.
I pulled myself up, swung open the door and saw the man scrambling to his feet. He was frantically scooping up things that had spewed forth from the pizza box when he fell. He definitely wasn’t carrying a pizza. Several notebooks, a clear plastic bag full of computer thumb drives, data CDs, and other things littered the floor. The one item that instantly caught my eye was a brightly colored, very thick book. I recognized it right away because I had one just like it in my well-packed backpack back at home. It was a World Almanac.
Many times over many lonely nights, I had wondered what I would take with me when I snuck a trip in the time machine. Of course, it would depend on how far back into the past I was going, but lottery numbers were always at the top of the list. Second, especially, if I were going back more than a few years to a pre-internet world, would be a World Almanac. Where else could you get so much information about the world packed into one tidy book?
Damn it, this punk, who was now up and running down the hall, was trying to steal a ride in the time machine. My ride in my time machine. I turned for a moment and saw Dr. Patel crumpled and motionless on the floor. I paused and panicked. What do I do? What do I do?! Go back and see if she’s alright, or stop this guy?
A pleasant chime sounded and Dr. Mason stepped from the elevator, blood dripping from a gash on his forehead. His white hair was a radiating mess as he pointed and commanded with the snarling face of a vengeful god, “STOP HIM!”
I turned back down the hall and ran like mad with my eyes focused on the intruder. Something skidded beneath my foot and my view shifted as I went horizontal. For a brief moment, out of the corner of my eye, I saw the empty pizza box fly up in the air. My body landed hard on the floor for the second time in less than thirty seconds. Ow.
Get up! My mind yelled. Ignoring the pain, I got up and resumed running. The attacker was no longer in sight, so he must be the control room. NO, NO, NO! He’s going to ruin my chance at saving June! A few seconds later I reached the end of the hall and slammed into the door. I could hear the deep whirring of the generators firing up inside. NO! I fumbled with my keycard and would have dropped it, but thankfully it was attached to my belt with one of those little zip cord things. I steadied my hand and swiped it on my first try, and burst into the control room...
...Just in time to see the man silhouetted by the brilliant, thick, deep-hued swirling green and blue lights blazing from The Machine. He hesitated for a moment before approaching the light. The man turned, gave me a thumbs-up with the biggest Yes! I’ve done it!-smile, and stepped into the archway.
All of my frustration and anger focused into a single point of rage as I threw the flashlight with all my might. End over end it hurled straight and true to connect to the back of the intruder’s head. He stumbled forward into the light and vanished as the black flashlight clattered onto the metal floor of the riser.
The light diminished as the whirring winded down. My anger melted and guttered into helplessness as I started thinking about all of the inquiries and security reviews that would inevitably come. The door behind me flew open as Ron ran in. He had a hopeful look at first as he was about to say something, but the look on my face combined with the dimming lights of The Machine told him all he needed to know.
I offered, “I at least got him good in the back of the head with a flashlight.”
He barely acknowledged me as the color drained from his face. He stumbled over to the console and looked at the date on the computer. It exactly was five years in the past. “Why then?” I asked.
“He probably didn’t have the time to set it to the date he wanted.” His frame seemed to deflate in the chair. “Did you see what he had in the pizza box?”
“Yeah. He dropped it when I caught him off-guard in the hallway. It was a few notebooks, a plastic bag with a bunch of USB thumb drives, and a World Almanac. Hey, is Dr. Patel ok?”
“She’ll be fine. She got zapped and hit her head on the floor pretty hard. Dr. Holman is taking her to the hospital now.” He sighed. “This is the one time I wish you weren’t so efficient. If you were just a few minutes slower on getting The Machine repaired and back online, he wouldn't have been able to use it.”
Great. How do you respond to something like that? “Uh, sorry.”
He got up slowly. “No. No need to apologize. You do a great job. It’s not like you knew he was coming. I’ve got to go and make some phone calls.”
The door opened and Dr. Goodwin poked his head in, obviously oblivious of what just happened, “Hey, where’s the pizza? I’ve been waiting in the break room but there’s no pizza and no people there. It’s today, right?”
Dr. Mason said, “Actually, today is a half day. You should go home and take the rest of the day off. Thanks for stopping down here, though. Oh, and thanks again. You reminded me of another phone call I have to make.”
Dr. Goodwin looked pretty proud of himself. “Well, I am really helpful. Thanks, and see you tomorrow!”
Ron turned to me, “I hope you don’t have plans tonight because I’m going to need your help. It’s going to be an all hands on deck kind of day.”
While I didn’t mind helping, I couldn’t help but ask, “Uh, why did you send him home? He isn’t going to help?”
“I meant all competent hands on deck.”
***
