“Oh. Well, okay. I just mean, you had a point; it is weird, and God’s honest truth, he was a bit of a monster when we were dating.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Everything was cool last night, though. I had two girlfriends there. You’d love meeting them. Shannon is craaaazy. You’d be guaranteed to have a great time. Maybe you’d just like to start out with a nice little art show. I go to those all the time, and that way you don’t have to wait for my next birthday. Sometimes we have to dress up though. Could you do that? They wouldn’t exactly accept a Superman shirt.”
“This is a Green Lantern shirt.” He looked sheepishly at his button-down shirt that he’d tossed over a chair the moment he got back into the lab.
“The point is, any of your stock superhero shirts would not work.”
“So, you actually wear a dress to these things?” Milt asked.
“Yes, yes Milt. I sure do! I’m not always in these raggedy jeans and bandana.” She swiped at him with a towel he’d left on the workbench.
“Ow! You almost got me.” Milt dodged her towel, laughing.
“Okay, okay. I think I’m gonna leave now. Stop distracting me!”
“Speaking of distraction!” A voice called from the door. Mr. Beardon sauntered in. “Look at you two lovebirds. No wonder Milt’s always here at night. And here we all thought you were working on something big!”
Milt set his jaw and closed his mouth, turning toward his work bench as he felt the color rise in his cheeks. He didn’t want either of them to see him blushing at Beardon’s remark. “What do you want, Beardon?” he called over his shoulder.
“Oh, I was just stopping by. Good to see you, Tabitha. Aren’t you glad I sent her to you Milt?”
“Actually, yes. Take a look at my bookshelf. It’s a lot more organized than the pile of journals and books you’ve got in all four corners.”
“Yep, impressive. I may need your help one day, Tabitha.”
Tabitha visibly cringed. “Great.” She turned and mindlessly grabbed the broom, forgetting that she intended to leave.
“I need you to take over my Anatomy class next Tuesday, Braddock. I’ll owe you one. Sound good?”
“Well, you do know I’m more of an expert in Physics? But, okay,” Milt answered.
“I’ll leave explicit instructions; it’ll be easy for you,” Dr. Beardon left with a wave.
“You make sure to collect on that payback,” Tabitha whispered.
#
That night, Tabitha headed for her friend Tracey’s house, and Milt headed home to put his feet up and bake a lasagna. He found it oddly relaxing, a habit he received from his mother in childhood. Her cooking was a blessing and a bane to his figure. He wasn’t obese by any measure, but his body certainly carried the look of one who mostly spent his spare time indoors.
Realizing he forgot to check his mail, Milt headed out into the hallway, running into Brad, his auto mechanic.
“How’s it going, Milt? Is the car running alright?”
“Oh, yes. Perfectly. Thanks for that tune-up you gave me last week.”
“What are you up to?”
“I guess I’ll shuffle through this stack of bills while I eat some lasagna.”
“Lasagna? Who you got cooking for you?” Brad winked.
“I cooked it. It’ll be done in about ten minutes. Come on over for a bite. I need to ask a few things about car maintenance anyway.”
“Awesome! Sounds a lot better than the frozen fish n’ chips I was planning on. The wife is at church tonight and I gotta fend for myself. I’ll be over in five.”
When Brad came over, he was carrying a few cold brews. Milt smiled. This man would never know just how indispensable he was to Milt. Though he’d never let Brad work on his car again, Milt planned to gain a little more knowledge on car maintenance. He figured he could learn to do it himself. Why not?
“I didn’t know you were such a good cook, Milt.” Brad took a swig of beer.
“My mom taught me a lot of classic Italian dishes. I learned that if I helped in the kitchen, I was the first to taste the food. You can see how that worked out.” He pointed to his belly.
Brad chuckled and took another sip.
After dinner, Milt had Brad drawing diagrams of the Envo’s carburetor and just what needed to be done to replace it.
“Really, I’ll do it for you,” Brad offered.
“No, but thanks. I need to be able to do this stuff myself.”
“I admire that in a man like you. Mr. Scientist and educator. Most men like you, we used to call them pencil pushers. Sorry, no offense…”
“None taken.”
“Yeah, people like you don’t normally take the time to learn this crap. I’m saving you lots of money, ya’ know.”
“I’ll pay you back in a good meal anytime!” Milt smiled as he took a drink.
“Well, now that we’ve had a few, what do you say you and I go out to the pub on the corner? Maybe just an hour or so. Christine will be home around ten, I think.”
A red alert went off in Milt’s head. He’d already had two. How many could they take in at the pub? No, he didn’t need to suddenly get loose lips or to be asked any questions about what he worked on all the time at the lab. Or maybe they’d just converse about cars and engines? No. He couldn’t risk it. Milt was already under pressure to keep this secret within.
“I’m sorry, Brad. I’m working on a few ideas, and I just can’t manage it tonight.”
“No sweat, Doctor Milt.”
“Just Milt.”
“Okay, neighbor.” Brad extended a hand and Milt offered his in return for a handshake.
At least he didn’t take that personally, Milt thought. “I can make a really mean pizza, too. Maybe next week. You could bring the wife over.” He immediately regretted that offer. What if she wasn’t pleased with simple engine talk and asked a lot of questions?
“Ah, thanks Milt. But, she doesn’t like beer, and she’s gone every Weds. Night. I’m just sayin’, it’s the perfect time for some guy talk. Carburetors, boxing. You like boxing?”
“I can bear it. It’s slightly interesting,” Milt answered.
“Slightly interesting. You’re a riot!” Brad tipped his hat as he left.
Milt knew better than to share anything about his time travel discovery. He’d already experienced the disappointment of sharing an idea with the wrong people. His earlier work had led to a small microchip that could be implanted into animals to ensure their identification should they be lost. It held implications for humans as well and was advanced far beyond the technology of the day.
Sadly, he sold the idea to the highest bidding company, a company that offered him just five-hundred-dollars. After which, he was no longer allowed any access to the progression of the idea. Nor could he develop the idea any further. Someday he’d likely see it on the market and get no credit.
Credit wasn’t the highest priority, though. Safety and ethics were also of concern, and this time-travel idea could be deadly in the wrong hands.
#
For Christmas that year, Dr. Mary had gifted Milt with an ant farm that he decided to keep in his lab. He was there every day, anyhow. He loved sitting and watching these peaceful creatures get on with the work of digging and colonizing. It was very soothing on those days when he was getting nowhere with his ideas.
Tabitha had given him a Metallica t-shirt that was too small. He wasn’t sure he would have even worn it if it fit him. Band t-shirts were more her style than his, and she’d bought him a medium that did not account for his broad shoulders. He knew it right away but pretended to go into the office room to try it on.
“Oh, an ant farm,” she intoned without enthusiasm.
“Yes, I love watching them work when I am getting nowhere. They’re fascinating, really.”
“I just hope it never falls and breaks. They’d be all over the place. In our shoes, climbing up our legs.”
“Do you have a phobia of ants?” Milt s
tuck his head out of the office door.
“No. I’m fine. I just freaked out when I saw that old movie about those killer ants attacking everybody. I’ll be alright, as long as you don’t ask me to take care of them in anyway.”
“Okay, agreed.”
She really seemed squeamish about bugs. Milt was surprised. He came back out, t-shirt in hand. “It doesn’t really fit, but I tell you what, I will keep it here in the office, and you can wear it whenever you need a spare t-shirt.”
Tabitha appeared crestfallen. “I didn’t realize you’d need an extra-large.”
“I’m just a little…..wide.”
“There’s nothing wrong with your body type.”
“Tabitha, Mom’s cooking set me up to be like this, and Dad’s build was pretty much that of a line-backer. He actually channeled it into sports. Me, not so much. Anyway, band t-shirts are more your style. They’re a good band, though.” He sat back down at his workbench that was littered with small auto engine parts.
“Okay, I’ll remember that next time. Though it might give you some cool points with the girls if you wore them!”
Milt raised his eyebrows. “Cool points with the girls? Don’t you think I have plenty of that, what with my Batman socks and my ant farm?” He raised the legs of his pants and then gestured toward the ants.
Tabitha stifled a laugh with her hand.
“Stop that. You’re laughing. I can see it in your eyes!” Milt turned to her with his arms crossed and a fake pout.
“Oh, I’m not laughing at you, I’m just, sharing the joy. That’s what it is.”
“It’s okay. Go ahead and laugh.”
“I guess you just have a unique sense of style, huh?”
“Yes. I’d never settle for looking like every other Ken doll out there in the clubs these days.”
“When is the last time you have actually been to a club?” Pinky got a gleam in her eye.
“It was just a rhetorical statement. If I were to go to a club….then, well, you ought to know I’m not into clubs.”
“Yes, Milt, I figured that. I was just teasing you. Thanks for the movie tickets, by the way!”
“No problem. You can enjoy them with a friend.” Milt felt as if he had just tripped on his tongue again. Should he have offered to go with her? No. What kind of gift would that be? he wondered. After all, she was just a friend, and these Christmas gifts were just kind gestures, like the ant farm from Dr. Mary, who was happily married. They were just friends.
#
“What’s this?” Milt asked, looking at a flier he’d found near the door.
Tabitha kept shining the window nonchalantly. “Oh, someone gave that to me. It’s a juried art show. Artists can win prizes and money.”
“Are you entering it?”
“No. Look at the entrance fee.” Tabitha kept working and would not look at Milt.
Milt wondered why she couldn’t swing the entrance fee, but then he remembered that the holidays could be rough on a student.
“I’ll give you the money. We’ll call it a Christmas bonus. You really have straightened up my desk in there, and the bookshelf as well, and I certainly have never had clean windows until now.”
She straightened up. “No. You can’t do that.”
It didn’t matter how adamant she was; he’d already made up his mind. Milt slipped an envelope with the money into her jacket the next evening, shortly before she left. He received a call at home later that evening.
“Milt, you rascal!”
“Yes? Who is this?” Milt couldn’t help smiling into the phone.
“You know who it is! You are so sneaky.”
“Whatever could you be talking about?” He stifled a laugh.
“The money. I just found it. You have to take it back.”
“No. I can’t do that.”
“Argh. You’re going to force me to accept your kindness?”
“Tabitha, just take it. Try entering the contest. You’ve never done one before. You respect the gallery that is hosting it, right?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll be glad to accept a payback when you win first place. If you don’t, then you just keep on trying. Maybe the next one will be a graduation gift.”
“You don’t have to do any of that, really.”
“Tabitha, I wanted to help out. I know what it’s like.”
“Thanks, Milt. You’re a solid guy.”
“It’s what one true friend would do for another, Tabitha.”
#
The art show was an exciting roller-coaster ride for Tabitha. No doubt it could also add to her resume or get her in the door for future gallery jobs. She was not even bothered when she learned that she had only received an honorable mention. Milt had cleaned up, put on a coat and tie, and met her at the event. Her eyes beamed when she saw him. He met one or two of her female friends, but no ex-boyfriend was there to cast a shadow on the event.
Days later, Tabitha showed up at the lab looking pensive. She leaned against the work counter next to Milt.
“I have to tell you the truth about my ex-boyfriend. It’s an ego thing, I guess. He still wants me, but I’ll never take him back. He was a horrible boyfriend. I really shouldn’t be keeping him around.”
Milt raised his eyebrows. “Okay,” he said, clearing his throat, wondering where this was going and how he might fit into the picture. “So, you didn’t invite him to the art show?” he asked.
She shook her head. “He’s a pain, and he’s pretty jealous. Even jealous of you. He thinks I am, somehow, still his, and that’s got to end. I told him so.”
“Are you in any danger?” Milt asked.
“No, I don’t think so. I just need to stop letting this guy be a part of my social life.”
“Well, thank you for that honesty. My turn. Sit down, Tabitha.” He patted the work stool next to him, heart beating swiftly. The moment called for honesty on his part, too. There was no time to worry how she would react. He was letting her in on his biggest secret. “I have something I need to tell you about, too. It’s partially related to the big discovery I made a few months ago. Do you remember what we talked about last week?”
“Um, give me a clue?”
“Remember, you were wondering if, in the future, a person could be successfully cloned. I had told you they are experimenting with this in animals.”
“Yes, and you said, what was it you said?”
“I said they most likely would, that it was totally possible.”
“Yes, and that still totally blows my mind. How can they do that? Create a whole other living being with just some cells and DNA? It is beyond me. But, I guess it’s just like cell phone technology. Who would have imagined that in the 1950s? Besides sci-fi writers, I mean.”
“All it takes, Tabitha, is a lot of imagination, and someone who is willing to say, ‘we can do that if we try.’”
“I still just can’t see how it is possible! And, should we even do it? Is it right?”
“Well, I suppose that is all part of the scientific inquiry process and the ethics one must practice and consider. No one wants to create a Frankenstein’s monster.”
“I remember what else you said. You said ‘All things are pretty much possible, even when they seem totally implausible.’ Which, again, mind blown.”
“So, I have two things to tell you now.”
Tabitha sat down. “Okay. What have you done?”
“Promise me you will have an open mind and just listen to my reasons? Your mind may be blown again, but this has the potential to be very exciting, and it can only be between you and me at this point.”
“Okay, Dr. Braddock. Deal.”
Milt considered telling her once again not to call him that, but instead, he took a deep breath, looked into her trusting eyes, and began.
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The Temporal Test Page 2
