Willie's Redneck Time Machine

by John Luke Robertson

  “Samantha might not even want to dance. She’s always liked Rick.”

  “Just because someone’s attached to another’s hip doesn’t mean they’ll end up with that person,” you tell him.

  Jack looks at you but doesn’t get it. But that’s okay. You put the money in his hand.

  “First slow song.”

  A slow song that sounds like cotton candy begins to play, and you see Jack asking Samantha for a dance. At first she doesn’t agree and looks embarrassed, but he talks to her a bit and says something that makes her nod. Soon they’re out on the floor.

  You watch them and see an actual smile come over Samantha’s face. You’re not sure if you ever saw it before. Not even once when she was with jerk-boy Rick.

  It’s a nice thing to witness.

  You know it’ll be something she never forgets. You’ll always remember the best and worst parts about high school. They stick with you like diamonds on a finger or gum in your hair.

  She’ll also always remember the first time she danced with the man she ended up marrying and spending the rest of her life with.

  The song is nearly over when you look out at the dancing couples and spot Korie again. She’s dancing with someone who looks a lot like you. . . .

  Wait a minute—that’s not 1990 me.

  It’s John Luke.

  John Luke and his mullet.

  Somehow he’s got a tuxedo on.

  And now he’s dancing with his mother.

  This is a total Back to the Future moment.

  You pause, watching them, unsure what exactly to do.

  Do you watch your wife and your son dance in a fond sort of weird, wonderful way? Go here.

  Do you decide to interrupt them and break up this moment? Go here.

  2319

  SI STARTS PUSHING BUTTONS and pulls down a lever, then another. Soon you guys are moving, and the machine seems to be alive again.

  Where you’re headed . . . well, that’s a good question.

  The vibration lasts only for a minute; then everything is still again.

  “What’d you press?” you shout.

  “Anything I could.”

  You sigh in frustration. If you could actually learn how to operate the time machine, maybe you and Si could get home instead of traveling to random corners of the space-time continuum.

  Sirens go off, and the word Danger flashes on multiple screens around you.

  “Did you press a Danger button?” you shout.

  “Man, I’m like Michael Dangerous. I’m dangerous.”

  “You’re something,” you tell Si. “Tell me this. Why does the door open sometimes, but other times it doesn’t?”

  “You think I know? It’s not my fault. This isn’t some elevator with a Door Open button.”

  “I knew it was trouble.”

  Right then the door to the machine opens.

  “So what do you think our odds will be?” Si asks.

  The first thing you see is a fire. Not just a small fire but a big, blazing one. You see people screaming and running away from what looks like a big fair. A Ferris wheel is crumbling. Booths are crackling. A group of panicked clowns sprints past you.

  “Hey,” you shout to one, grabbing and stopping him. “What happened?”

  “Something landed on a Ford Model T that was next to a gas supply, and the whole thing exploded.”

  You shake your head. “Next to a gas supply? That seems a bit—”

  But the clown can’t take any more, especially since his makeup is running down his face from the heat.

  You and Si look at the chaos caused when your time machine landed in the wrong place.

  What you don’t know is that you’ve set off a cataclysmic chain reaction.

  This happens to be the 1919 Texas state fair. If you hadn’t destroyed it, this would have been the first place snow cones were ever served. They would have been made by Samuel Bert of Dallas. He would have gone on to make the first snow cone machine a year later—if this tragic fire hadn’t destroyed his little stand and stopped him from serving the cold treat to kids everywhere.

  You have deprived the world of its favorite summer snack.

  The world has become a darker place.

  Your actions send humanity into a downward spiral where kids who would have normally grown up eating strawberry-flavored snow cones are now forced to eat average, boring candy. Watermelon snow cones and peach snow cones and blueberry snow cones never see the light of day.

  In their place come criminals and angry, depressed people.

  All because of your little mishap.

  You want a Reset button.

  You want to do it all over again and give the world back its snow cones.

  THE END

  Start over.

  Read “The Morning Fog: A Note from John Luke Robertson.”

  1990

  YOU GRAB JOHN LUKE by the arm and sprint to the gym doors as you hear the beginning of the OMD song “If You Leave.”

  The two of you head into the hallway, and you start to go in one direction until John Luke tells you to turn the other way. You follow John Luke, and there’s the outhouse, just waiting for you guys.

  “Can’t believe it’s still here,” you say as you open the door.

  Just like the first time John Luke opened it, the inside resembles that of a typical outhouse. You have to move and squeeze so both of you can fit.

  “Well, let’s see what happens,” you say as you shut the door.

  For a second the two of you stand in silent darkness.

  “Think it’s the wrong outhouse?” John Luke asks.

  Then, finally, everything changes. You’re standing in the control room of the time machine. You sigh in relief.

  “Do you know how to operate this thing?” you ask John Luke. Although, considering the way he drives cars, you’re a little afraid to even ask.

  “I was just pressing buttons on the screen and the thing took off.”

  “We need to go back to the present day,” you say.

  John Luke stands in front of one of the control panels. He runs a finger across the buttons before saying, “Found it,” then types something on a keyboard.

  “What’d you find?”

  “A place to put dates in.”

  He enters the date, then presses a sequence of buttons.

  The time machine springs to life with a loud rumbling. You feel like you’re riding on a roller coaster.

  “Where are we going to land?” you ask.

  John Luke just shrugs.

  “Did it give a time?”

  “I didn’t put one.”

  “Maybe you should have—”

  Suddenly you’re falling sideways against the wall next to you. John Luke crashes into you. Then you’re both on the floor. The whirring stops, and the door opens.

  You’re afraid to go outside but know you have to. John Luke is about to go first, but this time you hold him back, stepping through the doorway ahead of him.

  You discover you’re in a field.

  The field behind our house!

  It looks like it’s later in the day than when you left, since the sun is disappearing. John Luke comes out and stands beside you.

  “Dad, look!”

  John Luke points to the sky and you see it. Someone’s coming toward you, parachuting down. He’s swinging back and forth and seems to be having a difficult time adjusting his position. The closer he gets, the more the person looks like . . .

  “Is that Uncle Si?” John Luke asks.

  You nod.

  What in the world is Uncle Si doing parachuting from the sky?

  Do you stay and wait for Uncle Si to land safely? Go here.

  Do you get inside to make sure you have a gift for Korie’s party, which should be starting any minute now? Go here.

  2319

  YOU SMILE AT THE WOMAN interrogating you.

  “I’m wondering—have you seen Chewbacca anywhere? Maybe Luke?”

  She
doesn’t smile.

  In fact, your remark seems to have made her very unhappy.

  She pulls out a round, disklike thing and places it in the palm of her hand. It begins to hover.

  “That’s cool,” you tell her, trying to show that you’re a friendly, good guy.

  You can see she’s reading something on the disk.

  “I think, Willie Jess Robertson, born April 22, 1972, it’s definitely not ‘cool.’”

  “Wow—future technology. Did you buy that at RadioShack?”

  She lets out a fake laugh as she grabs the disk and turns it toward you. You see a screen like a small, round television. On it is an image of your face.

  What is that?

  “That is you,” she says.

  You can read minds?

  “Yours I can. Good-bye, Mr. Robertson.”

  You wake up and find that you’re a construction worker in the year 1990. It’s strange because you end up having these confusing memories. Of West Monroe. Of going to the future. Of having a beard. Even of Mars.

  But, alas, you spend the rest of your life beardless and West Monroe–less and never even know what a duck call really is.

  Until, of course, someone suggests you get a memory implant, an amazing new procedure that will allow you to experience a fully imagined other life.

  This gives you déjà vu, but you really can’t recall why.

  THE END

  Start over.

  Read “The Morning Fog: A Note from John Luke Robertson.”

  TODAY

  “WELL, LOOKY WHAT WE GOT HERE,” a voice says from across the warehouse.

  You’re sitting on a box of Duck Commander hats in front of the mystery outhouse as Phil strides over. He’s wearing all camo and has shades on. He stands right next to you, staring at the outhouse.

  “Go ahead, get inside,” you tell him.

  “Why so glum?”

  You doubt your father is involved with the joke everyone else seems to be playing. But then again, maybe everybody’s in on it.

  “You know why this thing’s here?” you ask.

  “No, sirree,” Phil says. “What would I know about a wooden shed containing a toilet in the middle of your warehouse?”

  “I don’t know. People keep getting inside and then disappearing.”

  Phil looks at you and nods slowly. He examines the control panel on the door.

  “I bet you’re going to get inside and disappear too, right?” you say.

  “A man doesn’t go into an outhouse unless he’s got business to take care of,” Phil says in his trademark quotable tone.

  “You seen John Luke, Jase, or Si?” you ask.

  “They’re all in there?”

  You smile. Maybe Phil is indeed a part of this. “Oh yeah. They all went in, but they didn’t come out. It’s one of those outhouses.”

  “Sounds like the Mafia to me.” Phil opens the door and looks inside. “Ain’t smelling anything, so that’s a good thing,” he says.

  “Ain’t seeing anybody, so that’s a strange thing,” you reply.

  “So if I go inside and come right out, will you take me to get some lunch?” Phil asks.

  “I’ll even pay,” you say.

  “Okay. I’m hungry. That’s all I gotta say.”

  The tall, lean figure of Phil steps into the outhouse. The door swings shut, and the lights flash blue and green. You knew this would happen—maybe Phil will pay for your lunch instead. If you ever find him, that is. You’d hear something if your family members were all escaping into a secret underground tunnel or through a back door.

  The lights blink one more time, and the door opens.

  “I bet you’re not there, are you?” you say.

  You look around the warehouse to see if someone’s finally going to jump out and surprise you. But, nope. So you check the outhouse again.

  Empty.

  Unoccupied.

  Abandoned.

  Deserted.

  You stand there and think for a minute.

  Some say you can be stubborn, but they’re wrong—what you really are is smart. Caution can be an asset. And sometimes being suspicious can save you time and money.

  Plus, you have two older brothers and a younger one, and also five kids. You know the importance of being careful about what’s behind the door. Lots of things have been behind doors in the Robertson home.

  But now that Phil has vanished—and you know he’s not much into playing pranks—you think that something really, truly might be going on with this outhouse.

  Sometimes it pays to hold back, but sometimes you simply gotta get on with it.

  You step inside the wooden box and shut the door behind you. It doesn’t take long to realize that you were wrong, for what you’re standing in is not an outhouse anymore.

  Do you press a flashing button on a control panel in front of you? Go here.

  Do you decide you better not touch anything until you can figure out what’s going on? Go here.

  2319

  YOU JUST LET UNCLE SI crack open your head to find a hidden implant in your brain.

  Are you crazy?

  Has the time travel really gotten to you?

  When Si tries to do whatever he needs to do to your head, something seems to go wrong, and he falls back a moment.

  “What? What is it?”

  You’re feeling a bit woozy.

  “What happened?” you ask.

  “Are you—? You can still talk?”

  “Yeah.”

  You try to put your hand on your head. But then you realize you’re missing a big chunk of it.

  “That can’t be good,” you say.

  Si just stammers, “I-I thought I knew how to work one of these things.”

  “And you tell me that—” Now?

  Those are the last words you will ever say.

  Until you hear a familiar song and find yourself singing along. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.”

  Your phone is ringing. Somehow you’re back in your warehouse. And somehow . . .

  Wait a minute. Where are you back from?

  And why’s your head pounding?

  THE END

  Start over.

  Read “The Morning Fog: A Note from John Luke Robertson.”

  2038

  YOU REALIZE YOU DON’T WANT to see the future. It’s too weird. This store and John Luke and that little car. Thanks but no thanks. You can experience 2038 after living another twenty-odd years, as you explain to John Luke before you go back through the Walmazon doors.

  Wandering down an aisle, you try to find the men’s restroom. Surely the outhouse will still be there, right?

  You pass a huge display that shows guys wearing some kind of strange camouflage you’ve never seen before. Then you read the header.

  Squirrel & Girls

  There are T-shirts and toys and books and even Chia Pets.

  Wait a minute.

  Everything looks like Duck Commander. They even have a logo of . . . a squirrel.

  What is this?

  You go over to a lady behind the jewelry counter.

  “Hey, what’s this Squirrel & Girls?”

  “Oh, they’re great.”

  “Who are they?”

  “A family living in Monronia.”

  You lean over because you think you didn’t hear her right. “Monronia? What’s that?”

  “Our town. You from out of town?”

  Yeah, I’m from out of this world. “Something like that,” you say. “So what do they do?”

  “Oh, they’re great. Funny. It’s a mother and father—the mom used to hunt squirrels, and now the four daughters all do the same. They’re a huge brand. They sell everything. They’ve had four movies come out. You didn’t see them?”

  “Movies?”

  “Sure,” the woman says. “I watched one on my refrigerator the other morning. It was good.”

  Somehow it seems like every other word this lady is saying isn’t coming out right
.

  “What’s the movie called?”

  “Oh, The Dark Squirrel Rises.”

  This must be the bizarro future caused by something you ate. Again you remember those fried pickles from right before you got into the machine.

  “Okay, thanks.”

  “But don’t start there,” the woman says as you begin to leave. “Start with Star Squirrels. Then The Squirrel Who Loved Me.”

  “Will do.”

  You gotta get out of here.

  Before you leave the Squirrel & Girls merchandise center, you see a stack of boxes that say Chia Jillie. You can only shake your head and keep going.

  When you get to the restroom, you see workmen carrying pieces of wood out of it. You rush in and find what remains of the time machine: a pile of scraps.

  It’s been battered and destroyed.

  You’re never going back home, back to 2014.

  You decide to shout a loud and long “nooooooooo!”

  “Greetings, Willie,” a voice behind you says.

  But you’re still yelling, “Noooooooo!”

  Eventually you stop.

  “Willie Robertson. The once-famous Duckman.”

  You look up and see an older guy staring at you. The workmen leave the scraps so you two can have a private conversation.

  “Do I know you?” you ask the older man, who, strangely enough, sorta looks like you.

  He’s got a thick gray beard and long hair and even has a bandanna on his head.

  “It’s Henry Billowby. From West Monroe High.”

  Of all the people you could imagine meeting right here and now, he never would have crossed your mind.

  “And yes, I know you’re probably wondering what I’m doing here.”

  “I’m wondering what I’m doing here,” you say.

  “Since I’m really the only villain your story has, of course I need to show up at some point. Don’t you think?”

  “I’m not quite following.”

  “The world has changed, Willie. Duckman. Ever since you decided to come back and pick a fight with my brother and me when you saw us in high school. Remember?”