Time and Again: A Collection of Crazy Chronology
Page 7
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This time, I found myself propped up in some kind of a chair with large wheels. The room was brightly lit, and smelled like some kind of herbal brew. A window overlooked a vast cityscape. A strange box was before me, with images and sound emanating from it.
I saw two enormous structures – towers – and they were ablaze. Black smoke poured from them.
And then one collapsed. An oddly familiar vision.
Finally, a woman entered the room.
“Ah, you’re awake,” she said. “I took the liberty of placing you in a wheelchair. Thought you may prefer to greet the world vertically.”
“You mean, greet the end of the world,” I said, scowling.
“Welcome to the twenty-first century,” she said, a ring of sarcasm in her voice. “You like cream in your coffee?”
“Tell me,” I pleaded. “Tell me it is the end.”
“Well,” said this woman who wore a man’s clothing, “I think we should start with introductions. My name is Josephine Dummer. You can call me Jo. Today’s date is September 11th, 2001. We’re in Hoboken, New Jersey. And,” she said, pointing to the box with images, “you’re looking at the end of the world as we know it.”
“Jo,” I said, brightening. “Are you sure?”
“Well,” she said, “I come from a long line of Nostradamus experts. In my family, you had better know your Nostradamus predictions. I’ve done my homework. And, well, according to what you yourself wrote – this is it.”
I shook my head slowly. “You – you based your decision to awaken me on my own prophecies?”
“Of course, sir,” she said, looking confused. “How else could I have known when it was the end of the world?”
I raised my hand to my head and covered my eyes. “You Dummers are fools! Know you nothing? My prophecies! Eh.” I fell silent.
“What’s wrong? I don’t get it.”
“No, Mademoiselle, you clearly do not get it. I am beginning to question the wisdom of this exercise. You people always think the sky is falling and the world is ending – every time there is a disturbance in your lives, you think the end is nigh. Fools, all of you.”
Jo sat in her armchair, her legs curled under her, sipping from a mug. “Well,” she said with a shrug. “You wanna go back to sleep?”
I stared at the image box as the other great tower fell to the earth, no doubt killing hundreds or even thousands of people within it. The image changed to show bearded men in head scarves dancing in the streets, waving weapons. This world was certainly mad, and certainly heading downhill, but it wasn’t over yet.
Not while women in men’s clothing sat in their comfortable rooms sipping hot drinks and observing the world though magical image boxes.
“Very well,” I said.