Travel Mishaps

Travel Mishaps 

Matthew Ryan Fischer

 

I was surprised to hear a key unlock the front door, having only the one key myself. More surprising was turning in time to watch as I came through it. He, me, the arriving one was disheveled and discombobulated. I wasn’t doing so well myself. I didn’t get a good look. At least, it didn’t stick. I think I was in a bit of a state of shock as well. I’m pretty sure he was older. Maybe some grey. A withered gaunt appearance. Eyes big but sad. He moved so fast towards me. Like his life depended on it. Maybe it did. Yelling. Babbling. He had a lot to say. I wish I had been recording. He spoke too quickly in half sentences. Half of that was incoherent.

“You need…”

His words drifted off as I stood. He was shocked to see me stand.

“You… Me… you weren’t supposed to stand.”

“What?”

He stood and stared at me.

“You… I never stood.”

And then the space in front of us warped and light bent in unnatural ways and then he was gone.

I never stood... What did that mean? What was I supposed to have done? I did something different. Something wrong. Something he never did. And it made him go away. For good? I don’t know. Back to his time? Or his world? No idea. I’ll never know.

It haunts me so. I never stood... From time to time I have nightmares. I was supposed to do something. He was supposed to stop something. Or change it. I mean what was the point of a warning if not for that. And I did change something, but perhaps not the right something. So what does that mean? Did I do it right? Or make it worse? And how will I know what I did, unless something happens somewhere in the future. And if that future happens, how am I supposed to become him? How am I supposed to know the secrets of time travel? And if I made it worse, then maybe I’ll never know those secrets.

What does the future hold?

I can’t know. I’ll never know. I have to make peace with that. I have to stop caring. I have to stop thinking. It’s just something. One of those things. Like how you can’t fix your mistakes in the past, you can’t fix your mistakes in the future. You just have to learn to accept them and move on.

But what was it? What was so bad? So bad he would try anything to change it?

Future me is probably super pissed right now. I probably fucked that dude up royally. Future me probably hates present me. Or past me even more than present me. Maybe he’ll try again. Maybe. If he’s the same. If he can remember any of it. If he blames me. Maybe I’ll see him or maybe past me will. Maybe I’ll get killed and blip out of existence. And then I’ll never know.

I wish I could forget his eyes. I barely remember him or what he was wearing or what he was trying to say. But I remember that sick feeling when I looked into his eyes. He was so desperate. To get to me. To warn me. To make things better. And I fucked all that up. Poor me. Poor him. I’d apologize if I could. Past me was a real prick.