“I see. No, they never achieve world domination. Their economy implodes thanks in part to increased crackdowns on counterfeiting, their shoddy structures start crumbling en masse, and millions die in Hong Kong alone due to lung diseases attributed to what will become the worst smog in the history of the planet. I can’t even warn them because they already know these things.”
“That’s awful! All those people and the environment… Dare I ask about global warming?” she asked.
“We’re fucked,” he said. She looked horrified, so he continued, “We don’t go extinct or anything, unlike so many other species. We adapt. Though if you ever want to vacation in Florida, I would do it sooner than later. And as always, the people with money and power do alright,” he said with an air of disgust. “And before you ask, yes, I have plenty of money.”
“I have many more questions, but this was such a long day. Can we go to sleep now?”
“Of course,” he said. He got undressed and they both crawled under the covers.
“Oh my god,” she said, “We still have to fly home.”
“We can drive if you prefer.”
“No, it will be fine. Unless we can take your TARDIS...?”
Arnesto chuckled. “I left the key on the plane.”
“That is the last time I trust an internet dating site.”
***
“Can I tell you some stuff about the future?” he asked. They were finally home and had finished unpacking.
“Not today, I’m not ready.”
“But soon, right? There’s so much I want to share with you.”
“Should you be telling me anything? Isn’t that dangerous?”
“I will only tell you safe things. You should be excited, I know so much cool shit!” he said, holding out his hands like a fisherman exaggerating the size of his greatest catch.
“Arnesto, I… I can’t be with you anymore.”
“What?! Why not?”
"'Why not?’ You kidnap me, tell me you’re from the future, then you put me on a plane which lands in a river…”
“You made me do the third thing to prove the second thing which necessitated the first thing! And I did all of it to save your life.”
She nodded. “Yes, you did. And I appreciate that, I really, truly do. But that’s my point. If I never had cancer, would you have told me any of it?”
“I couldn’t. Not knowing was for your own protection.”
“Exactly. Because of my cancer, our relationship went from being completely based on lies to merely being founded on lies. That’s still a heck of a lot of lying, Arnesto. I can’t grow old with someone who always has me wondering if he’s telling the truth. Or wondering if the next disaster is the one where he misremembers something and gets himself killed. Or wondering which day will be the one where government agents come pounding on the door.”
“What if—” Arnesto stopped. He saw something he had never seen before. A tear rolled partway down her cheek before she quickly wiped it away.
She was crying.
In their handful of years together across two universes, he had never seen her cry. Not in dealing with her terrible family, not in facing cancer multiple times, not even in facing death.
But being in a relationship with him — that made her cry.
She sniffed hard and rubbed her eyes. “What are you thinking right now?” she asked in a gentle tone.
“How stupid I am. I honestly thought if I saved your life, we’d… Guess it doesn’t matter.”
“Do you regret it?” she asked. He didn’t answer. “Arnesto?”
“No, of course not. I’m thrilled you’re going to have that operation. And we did have a lot of great times together. Some of them twice. Listen, you can’t tell—”
“I promise you I will never breathe a word of this to anyone.” She grabbed her keys. “I’ll stay with Julie tonight.”
“Did she—”
“Yes, she got her CPAP.” She gave Arnesto a hug. “You’ll always be my hero. Please be careful.” She opened the door and walked out of his life.
The Keys to Success
Katrina's House
Silicon Valley, California
Friday, August 26, 2011
Afternoon
“Thanks so much for doing this, Arnesto,” Katrina said, gesturing for him to enter her (formerly their) house. “You’re a lifesaver.”
He looked at the photos on the wall. By now, it was an entirely different selection than he remembered. It had to be; they hadn’t existed in his first timeline.
“No problem. It will be good to spend time with the boys,” he said. If the cats weren’t in the picture, there was no way he would house-sit for Katrina while she, Mike, and the kids went on their mini-vacation to Southern California. The main point of the trip was to see Mike perform with his band in some concert. Mike, the man who stole Katrina away from him. The man who knocked her up while they were still married. Would it have worked out between him and Katrina if Mike hadn’t entered the picture? Probably not. But that was beside the point.
He became aware of piano music coming from down the hall. Guess they had a piano now?
“I know the cats will be thrilled to hang out with you,” Katrina said, snapping Arnesto to attention. “I’m going to go check on the kids’ last-minute packing.” She turned toward the stairs but then looked back. “Oh, guess what! The kids all made honor roll.”
Arnesto smiled; at least that was one positive that remained unchanged. “I’m not surprised. They have my brains.”
She looked at him awkwardly. “Preston doesn’t.”
As if he needed that reminder. Wait, was she implying that Preston…
“He made honor roll, too. We put their report cards on the fridge, go take a look.” She disappeared upstairs.
What the hell was she talking about — Preston aka Demon Child — made honor roll?! That would be a first. Arnesto walked into the kitchen, impressed by its tidiness, and looked at the report cards held by magnets on the refrigerator door. Nothing but A’s and B’s for Melissa, Carlos,… and Preston. Arnesto double and triple-checked the child’s name, looked for evidence of tampering, and attempted to verify the paper for authenticity, but came up empty. Preston had in fact made honor roll. And it wasn’t even the first time. Preston had made honor roll the term before, too, and had just missed it the term before that. Was Arnesto living in a parallel universe?! Oh, yeah, he was. But the differences never manifested like this.
Melissa had curlier hair and Carlos had a new birthmark, but they otherwise seemed identical to his children from his first life. Could Preston have received his own change that made him not a terror? And who was playing the piano?!
Arnesto walked to what used to be a guest room and peered in the doorway. He saw Mike sitting at the piano, but he wasn’t the one playing. Seated next to Mike with his hands on the keys was Preston. He wasn’t a prodigy, but for a child his age, he showed remarkable talent. Arnesto stood in awe with his mouth open, watching Preston finish the song.
“Good job, buddy!” Mike said when he finished. “This was one of my favorite songs when I was getting started. Oh, hey, Arnesto!”
Preston turned around. “Hey, Arnesto.”
As the two musicians stood up, Mike admonished his son, “Remember, we talked about this. Unless he tells you otherwise, it’s, ‘Mr. Modesto.'"
“Hey, Mr. Modesto,” Preston said.
“Arnesto’s fine,” Arnesto said, shaking off his shock. This was beyond trippy.
“Well, there you go,” Mike laughed. “Why don’t you see if your mom needs help?” he told Preston, who ran by Arnesto. At least, it sure looked and sounded like Preston. “Thanks for helping us out like this,” Mike said.
Arnesto became aware that Mike was now standing in front of him with his hand out. “No problem,” he said as he shook Mike’s hand. I am taller than you, smarter than you, wealthier, arguably better looking…
“How’s the games industry?�
� Mike asked. “Still doing independent contracting?”
“Yeah, it’s good. Same old, same old. Are you excited about your concert?”
“I am. We’re playing in front of fifteen thousand people.”
Big deal, I’ve SAVED more lives than that. “Wow, doesn’t that make you nervous?”
“Terrified. But once people start cheering and especially once you get past the first few notes, it all goes away and becomes this amazing rush.”
Alright, that does sound kind of cool. Man, I hate this guy. “I wish you luck.”
“Thanks. Oh, I think I hear the stampede. Excuse me.” Mike walked to the front of the house. Arnesto followed but caught Katrina in the kitchen.
“Never go anywhere without snacks,” Katrina said. “I believe you taught me that.”
“That sounds like me,” Arnesto said. “So, Preston’s quite the musician.”
“Isn’t he though?”
“I have to ask — has he been a difficult child? At all?”
“I never know where your questions come from, Arnesto. But you know what, he was a little difficult in the beginning.” She grabbed a couple of bottled waters out of the fridge.
“What happened?”
“He just… grew out of it.” She turned to leave, but paused. “Oh, the music helped. One time Preston started to throw a tantrum, but then Mike strolled in strumming his guitar, and Preston was mesmerized. Since then, he and Mike have had this incredible bond over music. I think we’re ready now, come say goodbye to everyone.”
Of course. It was the music. Katrina and Arnesto had tried everything with Demon Preston except music. Preston must have inherited Mike’s skill and passion for melody. How could they have known? Arnesto hadn’t even known Preston wasn’t his child.
Arnesto followed Katrina to the entryway as everyone else came bounding down the stairs and out the front door.
“Hi, Dad! Bye, Dad!” Melissa said.
“Father,” Carlos said with a handshake.
“Don’t ask,” Katrina said, rolling her eyes. She gave Arnesto a quick peck on the cheek.
“Bye, Arnesto,” said Preston or his amazing doppelganger.
“See you next week,” Mike said, shutting the front door behind him.
Arnesto watched through the window as their car disappeared down the street then he stood there appreciating the silence. Afterward, he sat down on the couch where Froggy appeared out of nowhere to jump into his lap. Schmedley also appeared, but wanting his space, he settled into a spot on the top of the far end of the couch. The cats must’ve been spooked by everyone running around and packing.
Arnesto thought about Preston. The boy’s entire other life was so much the worse for wear. And why? Because he had been raised by the wrong man. In his own unique way, Arnesto had been the one responsible for Other Preston’s troubles. There’s no way he could have known, but it was still depressing.
“It was the music, Froggy,” he said, petting the cat whose loud purr made him feel a tiny bit better. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Stretching over the armrest so as not to disturb Froggy, Arnesto reached into his bag and pulled out his laptop to check his email. There he read one of the worst messages he had ever received.
It was from his old friend Kabir at Smiling Axolotl Games. Kabir wrote, “Hey, I’m going to be in the area visiting my brother in a couple weeks. Want to fire up the SNES and play some Squid Wars?”
His heart sank. The problem wasn’t playing video games with Kabir. Arnesto always enjoyed that.
No, the problem was that Kabir was going to show up in two weeks and tell Arnesto that Hiromi, their fellow tester, died in a fire a week earlier.
Or one week from now.
Fire It Up
Katrina's House
Silicon Valley, California
Friday, August 26, 2011
Evening
Thus begun the moral dilemma of whether Arnesto should once again risk everything to save one life. Fuck it, Hiromi was a real nice guy. Of course he had to try. The issue was how.
What could he remember from the funeral? Not much. Lots of sobbing, people saying, “I can’t believe he’s gone,” over and over. It was nice, about as pleasant as such a tragic funeral can be. Hiromi had looked good, very peaceful. Actually, that was something that had surprised Arnesto. After finding out Hiromi had died in a fire, it had been something of a relief to find out his death had been from smoke inhalation instead of having burned to a crisp. Made it easier for everyone to say goodbye.
Wait, there had been a brunch a week or so later. A bunch of the old crew had decided to get together in Hiromi’s honor. Somebody had said something about the fire happening at night, possibly a dryer fire while they slept. Hiromi’s wife, Yokiko, had made it out in time. He obviously hadn’t.
Tracking down Hiromi’s address was as easy as looking up Hiromi's current employer on LinkedIn and then covertly following him home that Monday. It was only a slightly bigger hassle finding a fireman’s mask, but he secured one by Wednesday, and returned to Hiromi’s house in the wee hours that Saturday morning.
Hiromi and Yokiko lived in a cul-de-sac in a modest, one-story home. It was nice that there weren’t any stairs to worry about. As an added bonus, Arnesto found a place to park farther down the main road where he could keep an eye on the house. It was also in the opposite direction from where Hiromi was likely to drive.
Arnesto settled in and drank his coffee, not that he needed it. The stress of the situation already held his mind hostage. Was there no other, safer way of handling this scenario? Warn them anonymously? Might be ignored while potentially adding a murder investigation. What about breaking in, planting a bunch of extra-loud smoke detectors? Right, might as well turn himself in right now. Same with starting a fire while they were out. There were too many variables, and above all else, he couldn’t break his cardinal rule: Do not. Get. Caught.
The hours crept by. Finally, around 7:30 in the morning, he saw the garage door open and Yokiko leave for work. The night was a bust. Great, now he had an extra day to fill himself with self-doubt and preemptive guilt. After he went to bed, of course.
Easier said than done. Though he was plenty tired, the extra caffeine was wreaking havoc on his system. He only slept a couple hours that morning, plus a brief nap early that afternoon that only seemed to make him feel even groggier. Before long, he found himself back in the same parking spot in the wee hours of Sunday morning. There was one difference — he forgot his coffee this time.
Was there anything else he should have brought? An ax? A battering ram? Nah, they would only add suspicion and complicate things. Keep it simple, stupid. Too late now, anyway. Man, he was definitely not as coherent tonight as he was the night before.
Around three o’clock, Arnesto tilted the seat back so he could give himself an unobstructed stretch. He closed his eyes for a second, but that was a second too long.
Ugh, who was smoking a cigarette outside at this hour? He raised his seat and looked around, but couldn’t see anyone. A quick glance at the clock revealed it was 4:47. Wait, that’s not right. He must’ve fallen asleep!
He immediately looked at the house. It appeared illuminated, but it sure didn’t look like there were any lights on. “Shit!”
He reached under the passenger seat and grabbed the mask and bolted toward the house, putting the mask on as reached the driveway. “Fire!” he screamed but felt muffled due to the breathing apparatus. He lifted the mask off his mouth, not wanting to reveal his entire face, and yelled, “Hey, fire!” He kept yelling as he banged on the front door.
He didn’t seem to be having much of an effect. What a great plan he had! Yelling and screaming at a door, pure brilliance.
The door wouldn’t give when he tried kicking it in, either. Maybe another door would be less sturdy? The fire seemed to be coming from the left, so he ran around to the right. As he did so, he saw the neighbor’s lights turn on. At least someone besides him was awake
. “Fire, call 911!” he yelled at the neighbor’s house before completely donning the mask.
The back door had a screen on it, which he opened before starting to kick the door itself. It definitely felt flimsier. On the fourth kick, the door gave way, crashing inward. There was no fire at this end, but dark, thick smoke came pouring out of the doorway. It wasn’t like on television; he could barely see anything.
He felt along the wall and entered the first doorway he found. The room was small, and he realized when he grabbed the plastic curtain that he had found the bathroom. He stepped back into the hallway.
The mask must have clouded up, it couldn’t possibly be this dark. He lifted his mask off his face for a second hoping it would give him a better view of the hallway. Instead, it felt like he had set his eyes and throat on fire.
Coughing and holding his mask firmly against his face with one hand, he continued to feel around with his other. He found the next doorway on the other side of the hallway and went inside. He bumped into the bed and quickly felt around, but it felt unused. It must have been a guest bedroom.
He took one step back into the hallway when he felt something grab his ankle. He reached down and felt the back of Yokiko’s head and shoulders. She was on her hands and knees.
“Hiromi, help me!” she yelled while coughing.
“Keep going!” Arnesto yelled back.
“Hiromi!”
“Straight ahead, keep going straight!” He felt her let go of his ankle.
He pushed ahead, getting on his own hands and knees. The next door on the left led to what felt like a big room. It was the garage. He felt around for the garage door opener, but it didn’t work. So much for going out that way.
At last, he reached the master bedroom. Once inside, he felt the top of the bed and all around it, but Hiromi wasn’t there. Arnesto returned to the hallway.
It was getting warmer and the fire was getting louder. And closer. The hallway opened up into what must have been the living room and kitchen area — the far end of which was already on fire. He felt around the living room, but still no Hiromi. The flames beat him back into the hallway.
Arnesto Modesto: The World's Most Ineffectual Time Traveler Page 23
