“It’s a lie!” he cried. “You can be anything if you’re an American. They hate everyone else.”
“I don’t think that’s true now. You’re in the land of opportunity, my friend. That’s why your parents chose to come here.”
“No,” Milo snapped back. “They came here so we didn’t get killed. It’s no longer safe at our home. I wish they picked somewhere else.”
“Milo, what would you say if you had the opportunity to go back and change everything? Would you do it?”
The old man’s voice was cold, yet filled with temptation.
“Yes. I’d change it all. I’d take my chance in Sicily, or maybe just move north where it wasn’t so bad.”
“I see. What if I could give you that opportunity?”
At this, Milo sat up, but it was too dark to make out any of the man’s features besides his white hair, the color of snow.
“Who are you?” Milo asked.
“I’m Chris.”
“How did you find me here?”
“I was out for a walk. Beautiful evening, don’t you think?”
“What do you want from me?”
Chris grinned, his white teeth revealed in the dark pit that was his face.
“I only want to help. Call me crazy, but anyone lying on the train tracks isn’t having a good day. So tell me, Milo: do you want my help?”
Milo’s mind had raced with so many thoughts that it didn’t occur to him until this moment that he never gave his name to the old man. His arms and back broke into chills at the realization.
“I can give you opportunity, both in this country, or back at home should you choose,” Chris said.
“What kind of opportunity?”
“If you get off those tracks and come with me, I’ll show you. All I ask is that you trust me. A train will be here in twenty minutes, so I suggest you decide quickly.”
Milo stayed on the tracks and dropped his head. “Okay,” he mumbled. “Where are we going?”
“I have a store. I do all of my work from there—I even sleep there. I can show you what I’m working on. If you think it’s a fit for you, then great. If not, you can leave, but at least I kept you off the tracks, right?”
Milo thought about the kids calling him a wop. “Sure, I guess.”
Milo went with the old man that night and never looked back.
* * *
After reminiscing on that cold night in 1882, Milo smiled when the couple walked into his restaurant. Chris had asked him to keep a close ear on their conversation, wanting to know their plans for the year 1919.
Milo greeted them as he would any customer. The woman was beautiful with glowing skin and a heart-melting smile. The man was nothing special and his suit looked like he pulled it from a dumpster in the alley. He must have had money to land a lady like the one in the flowing blue dress.
“Good evening, you two, and welcome to The Cottage,” Milo said as he approached their table, a gentle smile greeting them. “I haven’t seen you around before, are you new to town?”
The man nodded while his lady friend stared at him nervously.
“Yes we are. My wife and I just moved here from Texas and we’re checking out the area for a place to live,” the man said.
“Oh? Well, in that case, welcome to Colorado,” Milo replied, a most distant Italian accent buried in his speech. “Do you nice folks know what you’ll be having for supper?”
“I think so,” the woman said.
How strange the woman speaks in public. What kind of man would allow this? Milo thought. Women never spoke unless directly asked what they were ordering. These people must certainly be from the scary future where women voted for who ran the country. What were they going to ask for next, to work in the government?
“I’ll have the turkey sandwich,” she said, ordering first in a power move that made Milo question every bit of the man’s dignity.
“And I’ll have the burger, with a soup on the side,” the weak man said.
Milo stared at them both, debated calling out the man, but decided to not make a scene. Chris had made it clear to not be memorable to the couple from the future.
“Perfect, I’ll get those orders started for you right away.”
Milo left them for the kitchen to prepare their meals. The entryway to the kitchen allowed for the restaurant’s sounds to carry in with perfect clarity. Milo used this to his advantage, often times being the only one working, as he could hear when a customer needed something or had a complaint. He could beat them to the punch, making him appear like a spectacular waiter who deserved the best of tips.
Today, however, the acoustics allowed him to spy on the couple. Milo had met plenty of people from Texas, and these two didn’t have one trait of a Texan. He didn’t appreciate the obvious lie.
As he threw the burger and turkey on the grill, Milo took a step back to soften the sizzling sound and focus on the couple’s conversation. They were the only ones in the restaurant, so he could hear them as if sitting at the table beside them.
“This is a cute place,” the woman said.
“Yeah it’s nice. Do you think he’s a Road Runner?” the man asked.
Road Runner? Milo thought. Why would they think I’m one of those assholes?
“Martin, you can’t go around assuming everyone is a Road Runner. You’re paranoid.”
“We just need to eat as fast as we can and get to Denver. Something’s not right about this place.”
The woman sighed. “Is this how our entire trip is going to be? You living in fear of everything and everyone?”
“No. I have my reasons for my suspicions. Just trust me.”
Milo heard frustration in Martin’s voice. They sat in silence for the next few minutes, so Milo peeked around the corner to see what they were doing. The woman was staring out the window while Martin fidgeted with his silverware.
Milo flipped the meat and filled two glasses of water.
“Here you are, folks,” he said as he stepped back into the dining area. “Your supper should be ready in a few minutes.” He placed the waters on the table and watched them with the curiosity of a child. “What are you folks doing after dinner tonight? Any big plans?”
“I think we’re gonna head downtown to find a place to stay. That’s where we want to live, and need to start looking at places tomorrow.” The man spoke as the woman turned her attention to Milo. Even though she had spoken out of turn, Milo felt a kindness radiating from her, something rare for people from the future.
“And what do you do for work?” Milo asked, knowing the man wouldn’t have likely prepared an answer.
“I’m an author,” Martin responded quickly.
“Oh? Anything I would know?”
Milo hadn’t touched a book in years, but wanted to play along.
“Probably not. I write children’s books. For young kids just learning how to read.”
Perhaps you’re smarter than you look, Milo thought as Martin seemed to have an answer ready for any question.
“What part of Texas are you from?”
“Dallas,” Martin said confidently.
“Ahhh, the big city. No wonder you want to live in Denver.”
Martin nodded as a bell chimed from the kitchen.
“Ah! Appears your dinner is ready. Let me get it all together for you nice folks.”
Milo disappeared into the kitchen and listened.
“What are you doing?” the woman asked in a hushed and hurried voice.
“I’m saving us.”
“We never agreed on a final plan for our backstory. I hope you’re remembering everything you’re saying because you’ll need to repeat it to anyone else we meet.”
“I know that. We’re doing fine, stop worrying.”
Now the man seemed to have control of the conversation.
Milo put their food on plates and returned to the table where he interrupted an apparent stare down between the couple.
“Buon appétito!” he sai
d cheerily as he slid the plates in front of his customers. “Is there anything else I can get you?”
“Not right now, thank you,” the woman said.
Milo nodded and let himself back into the kitchen.
The couple remained silent as they ate, not speaking one word to each other until the food was gone. Milo debated calling Chris, but didn’t have much to offer.
When he cleared their table, the man asked, “May I use your telephone?”
Milo had expected the question, and knew Chris wanted him to do anything to slow the couple down.
“I’d say yes, but my telephone has been out of service for the last week, I’m afraid. It takes a while to get someone out this way and take a look.”
“Is there anywhere around here that might have a phone to use?” Martin asked.
“Most places will be closing down for the day in the next few minutes. I’m the only one who stays open past six in case anyone wants to have a late dinner.”
Milo knew about the payphone two blocks further down Main Street, but it intentionally slipped his mind in the moment.
The woman looked at Martin in an unsettled way and Milo knew he had thrown off their plans. “I suggest you folks get going and start asking around before everyone turns in.” Milo grinned at them as he dropped off their bill.
The man rummaged through his pockets and retrieved a crisp twenty dollar bill.
Wow, they are good, Milo thought, the currency one of the small details people usually overlooked. Whenever the snobby people from the future came into his diner and tried to spend their futuristic money with gigantic faces on them, Milo took great pleasure in calling the police on them for attempting to pay with counterfeit money. Watching them squirm as they were questioned, and lie about receiving the money from the local bank, brought warmth to Milo’s soul.
But not these two. They were on top of their shit and likely had every fine detail accounted for. It explained why Chris was so insistent on keeping them on his side. Milo would never mention it to the old man, but he had been making some highly questionable mistakes in who he was giving the Juice to. Granted, Milo didn’t get to meet anywhere close to all of the newcomers, but the dozen he had met in the last five years have been complete busts and traitors. He wondered if the Road Runners’ sales pitch had improved in recent times because it never used to be so simple for people to disobey Chris and change their allegiance.
This was all beyond his knowledge and paygrade to worry about such things, but he wondered nonetheless.
The couple tossed the money on the table and stood from the booth.
“You folks have a pleasant evening, and come back and see me sometime.”
“Will do,” the man lied, and they left the restaurant in a hurry.
Milo gathered the money and studied it, admiring its crispness, before flipping the sign on the door to Closed and going to his back office to call Chris.
69
Chapter 14
“I think he was one of them,” Martin said as they hurried down the sidewalk.
“One of who?” Sonya asked, her arm interlocked with Martin’s.
“Road Runners. I think our waiter was one.”
Martin didn’t want to share the knowledge of the glow he had seen on the man’s skin, but might have to if danger kept presenting itself.
“He was friendly,” Martin continued. “Chris said to look out for people who are overly friendly, trying to trap you in their trust.”
“Oh my God, Martin, stop it with the nonsense. I don’t give a shit what Chris says. He’s a delusional old man.”
“I’m just saying we need to be cautious.”
“Of friendly people? Are you shitting me?”
“Can I ask you something?”
Martin knew Sonya hated being asked if she could be asked a question. Just ask the damn question! she would yell, but she only nodded this time.
He rolled up his sleeve and stuck his arm out in front of her. “Do you see anything?”
She examined his arm, clueless as to what she should be looking for. “Looks like your arm. Do we really have time for this?”
“Look closer. Really look. Do you see a glow?”
Sonya put her face a couple of inches from his arm and squinted, turning her head in different directions.
“Martin, are you feeling okay?”
He could see his glow as clear as daylight, but he knew what he was looking for.
“So you don’t see anything?”
“No, all I see is your arm. What are you getting at?”
“Look, I know that waiter was at least another time traveler. Those of us who are have a glow to our skin. I guess you could call it a side effect. He had the glow, and I’m sure he saw mine. That’s why when he started acting too friendly I knew we had to get out. I’ve never been so uncomfortable during a meal.”
Sonya stared at him blankly.
“Your skin isn’t glowing, and neither was that man’s, so what do you want me to believe? I’m looking at your arm as closely as I can.”
“I don’t know if you’re able to see it. I don’t know how any of this works. I just know that I can see the glow on myself and others. I learned of this in 1996 from the liquor store owner.”
“The guy who was killed in that fire? He was a time traveler?” Sonya’s voice had risen.
“He was. And he was a good guy, doing research to help save his future. He taught me a couple of details about time travel, the glowing skin being a main one. He also warned me about the Road Runners, said they were after him. Then I watched them murder him and burn his store to the ground. So, yes, I believe Chris when he says they should be avoided, and you should too.”
Sonya gawked at Martin, her lips parted as if she were fighting her jaw from hanging open. “I had no idea,” she said slowly.
“Why would you? I still wasn’t sure of what I had witnessed. They didn’t know I was there—I was hiding behind the building—but I saw it all. I couldn’t exactly stand up for him, either. There were four of them with guns and me with my fists.”
“Just so I’m clear, the Road Runners really are bad and you can tell when someone is a time traveler, but I can’t?”
Martin nodded as he stared at the ground in deep thought. “That’s why it’s important we keep a low profile. We just don’t know what to expect from the Road Runners. I’m pretty sure our waiter was one, or else he would have acknowledged my glowing skin, right? I don’t know their game except for that they’ll act nice to lure you into trusting them. Was he supposed to let us go so easily tonight? Is he going to pop up again later, maybe run into us on ‘accident?’ It’s best we don’t speak with anyone unless we have to.”
Sonya nodded, staring at Martin with her seductive eyes that had never lost their pull on him. He only hoped she would put her negativity toward Chris aside and realize what they were dealing with. The old man pissed him off plenty, too, but it was clear he didn’t want any unintended harm to befall Martin.
“Now I’m paranoid,” Sonya said in a voice just above a whisper. “I have that feeling that we’re being watched.”
They both looked around Main Street and saw only a young mother with her toddler walking down the sidewalk. Many shops had turned off their lights and were closing up their windows. It felt like a ghost town, and Martin realized it was silent enough that their conversation could have easily carried to curious ears.
“We really need to get downtown,” Martin whispered, and started walking again.
The sun approached the mountains, casting orange across the sky. They’d only have another ninety minutes at best before the darkness would creep in.
After walking two more blocks, Sonya spotted their way out.
“There it is! Look!” she cried out, pointing like an anxious child to a toy on the store shelf.
Martin followed her finger to the glass phone booth that he had passed over just moments ago, mistaking it for a store kiosk of some sort. It stood ri
ght below a high arching sign that read WELCOME TO DOWNTOWN LITTLETON.
They locked eyes with each other, grins forcing their way onto their faces, and ran to the phone booth. Martin pulled open the door and they both squeezed inside. Martin couldn’t recall having ever seen an actual phone booth. There had been plenty of payphones downtown, even a couple still in 2018, but never an actual glass box to stand in for privacy.
He pulled the phone from the cradle, popped in a nickel, and turned the rotary dial to zero.
The phone rang twice before a woman’s voice answered. “How may I direct your call today?”
“Yes!” Martin said, excitement nearly leaping out of his throat. “I need a taxi to come to downtown Littleton.”
“One moment, sir, and I’ll connect you with a cab company.”
The phone cut to silence with subtle clicking sounds. Martin thought the operator might have accidentally hung up, but was relieved at the sound of the phone ringing again.
“Thank you for calling Denver Taxi, my name is Chris, how can I help you?” a man’s voice greeted him.
Martin froze.
“Hello? Is someone there?” the man asked.
“I’m sorry, yes,” Martin snapped out of it, realizing it wasn’t the Chris that kept his girlfriend up at night. “I need a taxi in downtown Littleton as soon as possible.”
“And your final destination?”
“We’ll be going to downtown Denver, looking for a hotel.”
“Okay. I’ll have a driver head out now. He should be there in thirty minutes. Your total trip should cost around two dollars. Meet him on Main Street right on the corner of the strip mall.”
“We’re already there.”
“Perfect. We’ll be there shortly. Have a good evening.”
Martin hung up and found Sonya hanging on to every word after doubting they would make it out of Littleton tonight.
* * *
Dozens of cars drove by while they waited. The men working downtown would have finally made their way home. Martin watched in amazement as the clunky boxes of steel passed by them.
Wealth of Time Series Boxset Page 38
