Detours in Time, page 1
part #1 of Detours in Time Series
Detours in Time
by Pamela Schloesser Canepa
Copyright, © 2017
All rights reserved.
This book or any parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means--electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise--without prior written permission from the author. Thank you for respecting the author’s rights.
Independently published.
Cover design by Kat Mellon.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1 Scotty, the Human-Faced Dog
Chapter 2 Of Hybridization and Division
Chapter 3 Travelling on Our Last Dimsel
Chapter 4 The Mysterious Visitors
Chapter 5 The Wonder and the Horror
Chapter 6 The Hard Sell
Chapter 7 Foreseeing
Chapter 8 Intruders
Chapter 9 Bright Horizons on the Lane
Chapter 10 Adam the ant
Chapter 11 Bird Strike
Chapter 12 The Lone Union Soldier
Chapter 13 Storytelling
Chapter 14 Limbo
Chapter 15 The Nanny and Matt
Chapter 16 Bandwagon with Bandwidth
Chapter 17 Rising Sun on the Horizon
Chapter 18 Revelation
Chapter 19 The Way Things Used to Be
Chapter 20 Restless Streets
Chapter 21 Cracks in the Infrastructure
Chapter 22 Coming Around Again
Chapter 23 Semi-Normal
Chapter 24 Endeavors
Chapter 25 Forward Momentum
Chapter 26 Threads
Follow Professor Milton Braddock and Tabitha on a time-travelling journey in which they see the realization, and unraveling, of their dreams. Can the world ever be healed? How is it possible to witness and not participate, in a place and time where you are essentially a stranger?
J. Alfred Prufrock asked the fitting question: "Do I dare disturb the universe?"
Chapter 1
Scotty, the Human-Faced Dog
“Begin at the beginning," the King said, very gravely, "and go on till you come to the end: then stop.”
― Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland
The sign read, "Welcome to the Liberated States of America. Visitors must have proper I.D. and stop at check in centers to travel our roads and skies. If not, go back HOME!" Professor Braddock did not stop the Envo's engine and continued flying through the air. True, you never know what to expect when venturing into the future, but their safety was most important.
"Something's off." He glanced around, suspiciously.
Pinky had been glad they finally reached their destination; the ride had been a little bumpy, but now she felt unsure. "Yeah. What does that mean, ‘Liberated States’? The U.S. changed its name? What are they liberated from? Where are we?" Pinky questioned.
"Should still be in Virginia, but I don't trust it. Let's travel a little bit."
"How far ahead are we going? Who knows what it might be called if we go even further! I am still kind of curious about 2047," Pinky pleaded.
"Oh, no further, not in time, anyhow. We need to just go further 'down the road' so to speak. Not to mention, by their standards, I am sure we don’t have ‘proper I.D.’" He shifted gears and the Envo went out of hover mode, then took off into the air. The Envo was a hybrid vehicle, so to speak, that had a body that looked like a smaller scale Edsel, a classic vehicle that the professor believed was never given a true chance, and the mind and engine of a Honda S2000. Had he been able to market it, such a vehicle would be the envy of many, so Milt called it the Envo. The time travel secret was in the supercharged engine and its ability to hit high speeds. Pinky wasn’t sure how it worked, but the professor had installed something with the supercharger that gave this vehicle an ability to span decades. She never asked, and he never tried to explain it to her.
Pinky sat back, tapping her fingers on the door, and did not respond. At least she could see what was happening in this country in the year 2047. Sometimes she did not understand the professor's motives. No matter. It was always enlightening to travel with Professor Braddock. And she really had a soft spot for him, despite their age difference. Why else would she have kept returning to his office and later, his lab? One day she realized she had been turning down friends’ offers for match-making to instead hang out with Professor Braddock. Of course, she had a crush, but wouldn’t admit it to anyone else.
Pinky, a.k.a. Tabitha Hansen (Darn that blasted Bewitched T.V. show!) had known the Professor, or Milt as she liked to call him, for about nine years now. She came into his life during her junior year of college, an art student with very little cash and even fewer future job prospects. He was a liaison and adjunct professor with the Science department. She was on hire for odd jobs. One of those odd jobs was that of light cleaning. Evidently Milt's colleagues did not like the professor's messy office. She was hired to clean his and one other office, Professor Beardon's. Well, Professor Beardon sent her out right away when she placed a finger on his piles of newspaper; he was such a packrat. Milt, Doctor Milton Braddock, that is, tried to say he didn't need help, but the truth was, he liked her company. He would not allow her to throw away a single thing except a few moldy napkins (sometimes he ate in a hurry). He did, however, allow her to organize everything, and come up with a filing system. But the contents were top secret. Pinky swore to tell no one after she accidentally saw a formula and some notes about a serum to prevent progeria in children. That was just the one she saw; there were many others.
It was Professor Braddock (Or Doc Brad-Doc as Pinky would joke, inevitably leading him to allow her to call him Milt) who gave her the nickname "Pinky." She needed something shorter than Tabitha, and would not stand for anyone, even Milt, calling her Tabby. "I may be cat-like, but don't call me Tabby!" she'd bellow. She had a big voice for such a small girl, along with even bigger dreams, first, to become a dancer, and later, to break into the Art scene.
Pinky would usually arrive to help him organize with this pink bandanna on her head, holding her hair back. The nickname Pinky was born. Why not? He let her call him Milt. He was twenty years her senior, but from his childlike curiosity and goofy sense of humor, one wouldn’t know it, and they got along very well. Of course, travelling back in time and meeting his twenty-two-year-old-self did not help matters for Pinky at all. It was an awkward moment, when Milt had to hide so as not to expose himself, but Pinky refused to miss out on talking to Milt's younger self. Small talk, mostly. What young man could replace his odd intelligence and the excitement he offered? Milt’s younger self might have been a contender, but of course that wasn’t realistic. Anyone who knew Tabitha well never asked why, at thirty, she wasn't married yet. She was fiercely independent and moody. He was odd, quirky, and comfortable alone. It was obvious they enjoyed each other's company. Except when Professor Milton Braddock acted fatherly.
"Here we go," stated Milt. It was a few hours later. They flew past a sign reading, "North American Union."
"So, we went further north. Are we in, hmmm, Canada?" Pinky inquired. She was getting tired of being in the passenger seat, but never complained. This was still going to be exciting. Pinky had been the one to choose a visit fifty years into their future.
"According to my calculations, we should be approximately somewhere in South Dakota," Milt said, perusing a 1997 roadmap with the Envo in hover mode.
"Sounds cold," Pinky replied.
"Didn't you notice, the air seems clearer, and a lot less smoky?" Milt asked.
"Well, there are a lot fewer lights that I can see down below. But it is hard to tell, it being at night, you know."
"Oh, we've got to get to a museum," Milt replied, shaking his head.
"Should we maybe wait until morning?" Pinky suggested.
"Well, yes, of course. That's what I meant," Milt quipped, with a shake of his hands, as if brushing it off. He looked a little agitated. "I think this is a safe enough place for us to take a rest."
Pinky eased her seat back. She didn't know what was up with the professor, and she was sure he would not sleep a wink. With his seat upright, Milt was still ruffling through the 1997 roadmap, mumbling to himself. Pinky fell asleep easily. She dreamt of travelling from crowded cities with no green grass, to wide open spaces, flying through the air. Nothing really out of the ordinary. Until she saw two men each standing behind presidential podiums. They were speaking, but she couldn't hear the words. One of them was wearing overalls and a ball cap, with the saying, "A nation divided against itself cannot stand." The other wore the usual suit and tie, with a spray tan and slicked back hair. She then saw the suited president take a gun and aim it at the overall clad president's head.
"No!" Pinky screamed. Milt shook her shoulders. Daylight was just breaking outside.
"Wake up, Pinky! It's just a dream!"
"It was horrible! There were two presidents, and one was trying to kill the other; it was chaos!" Pinky cried out.
"I'm afraid it is as I suspected," Milt groaned. "Many states have gotten together and seceded from the United States. I can only imagine what events might have brought us to this."
"Well, are we gonna try and find out?" Pinky asked.
"Perhaps, Pinky, perhaps. Although I fear exactly what we’ll find. I almost regret coming here, yet curiosity won't let me just leave."
"Tell me about it," Pinky replied, remembering her first visit to Milt's home lab. "Wait! How do you know all t
"About our country? Inference, Pinky. I've been up all night, piecing the evidence together. And that dream of yours. I always knew you had some sort of seeing talent."
They left the Envo behind a huge, shady tree where it was not visible to the main road, which was merely a two lane road. This was nothing like Pinky had imagined things would be, fifty years into the future. Then, as they stepped out, she heard something overhead. It was a hover car.
"Milt, I like these flying cars!" Another car flew above them.
"Well, Pinky," Milt answered, "It was inevitable that we would one day be able to all drive flying cars. After all, scientists were already working on that in 1997. Besides me, I mean. My discovery is still top secret. In 1997, that is. Now this is scientific progress. No wonder the road we're on is only a two lane!" Both of them looked up in awe.
One car dropped down and hovered, took a right turn, and landed on what appeared to be a landing pad on top of a house.
"I say let's give them a visit. Maybe someone will let us look at a newspaper or whatever they read now. We can find out where the closest museum is. I want to find out just what kind of place this has become!" Milt wiped his brow, and they continued down the road.
The road was lined with beautiful trees bearing odd sorts of fruit. One tree had many flowers that looked like white orchids with a red fruit inside. Pinky reached up to pick one, then decided not to, after a shake of Milt's head.
“Remember the golden rule, Pinky.”
“I know. Upset as little as you can. It’s just, you know, tempting.” She shrugged.
Milt rubbed her shoulder in a friendly manner. Pinky was impulsive, but he felt he could trust her to make good decisions.
Of course, they had brought some food with them in the Envo, but Pinky was feeling hungry again, and that fruit looked interesting. She tried to distract herself. A little while later, a sleek looking car came down the road. The driver slowed down, gave them a funny look, and kept on going.
“Why isn’t that one flying?” She asked.
“Perhaps it’s a status thing. I imagine the fuel is much more expensive for those cars that fly or hover. Did you see how she looked at us?” He asked with a chuckle.
There was what appeared to be a subdivision of houses to their left, but the driveway along this road was much closer to the houses. Each one had a landing pad on top of the house.
“So, do they just go into a little hole in the roof to the house? Honey, I’m home?” Pinky asked.
Milt didn’t answer but just shook his head, smiling.
Another car flew up above. Pinky and Milt smiled. Scientific progress. They walked down the driveway to the house. It was a small, quaint ranch style house with solar panels along the roof. More trees with mysterious fruit lined its driveway. Bees buzzed happily around the trees' blossoms. Upon reaching the house, a doorbell rang, without any movement from the two of them. They looked at each other, and Pinky laughed. "No leaving surprises on the doorstep, huh?"
A brawny young man who appeared to be in his twenties answered the door. "Yes? You are strangers here. My door scanner couldn't identify your origins," he said, with neither fear nor threat.
Pinky and Milt looked at each other. Door scanner? Wow, Pinky mouthed, silently.
Milt spoke. "Yes. So kind of you to open up the door for us, regardless." The young man nodded, pushed a button, and looked at something just inside the doorway, out of the line of sight of his visitors.
"Where are you two from?" He asked. He had what appeared to be fish scales growing on his arms.
"Please excuse us. I have suffered a slight head injury and my memory is not always quite right. My friend here cannot talk at all. I feel sort of discombobulated." Pinky shot him an angry glance. But she still went with it.
"Should I call a med-vessel for you? They can stimulate your brain. Have you ever had that before?" The young man looked concerned, but still wary.
"No, I mean, no, don't do that, just yet. Yes, I've had that, what I mean is...." Milt fumbled.
"Does your friend sign?" The man started making movements with his hands. Uh-oh.
"Please, we just would like to know where your nearest library or history museum might be. I’d honestly love to visit both."
Pinky and Milt glanced at each other, unsure if this was going well or not. The young man pushed a button again, and a huge dog appeared, wearing some sort of bullet proof vest. It looked like a cross between a German shepherd and a St. Bernard.
"You have to understand. I am all about neighborly kindness, but this is about safety," the man spoke almost apologetically. Neither Pinky nor Milt doubted the young man or the dog could take both of them out in one fell swoop. The dog growled.
"Yes, yes. We'll be on our way. We just wanted to know where the museum is." Milt turned and pulled Pinky's arm.
"Thank you for understanding. We have to keep our corner of the world safe.” The young man came to the threshold of his doorway, his hand firmly holding the dog's collar. "Chance can't wait to have this armor off. You can go to that subdivision on the other side of the road. Keep walking until you come out on the other side. There you will find transportation that can help you get into town." He slowly started closing his door. "You know, you will need money." Pinky moved to speak, but Doc pinched her. How did he know they needed money?
"Kind sir, we would gladly trim your hedges, haul trash, almost anything to earn some money," Milt said.
Pinky shot another hateful glance at him. It was bad enough to be assigned to silence for this visit. Now, he was volunteering her to tasks she didn’t sign up for. Well, at least she was wearing jeans and a comfortable t-shirt.
“It’s alright. I’ve had a good month. Besides, no one hires humans to trim hedges anymore! I’ll give you just enough to use the transportation system. The museum is free.” With that, he handed over 5 shiny coins the size of Pinky’s palm. “And you can take your pick of the orchid fruit that has fallen from the tree. It will be good at least a week.”
So the fruit was edible. Pinky smiled, pleased, and winked at Milt.
“Thank you, thank you so much.” Milt bowed, so did Pinky, since she wasn’t allowed to speak. They made their way back down the driveway, picking up orchid fruit here and there. Pinky popped one into her mouth.
“How is it?” Milt asked.
“Not so good, until I get to the center. Think I’ll peel the next one.” She tried it. Indeed, it was much better this way.
“Perhaps you should stick to the ones whose petals are already falling off, like this one here. Means it’s a bit riper. Oh, this is like Oz! I love it.” Milt put his arms out.
“Are you serious? That man was ready to sic Cujo on us.” Pinky shook her head.
“Chance. You heard his name. Anyhow, we are obviously strangers. Why should he trust us? Who knows what strangers he has met before, with not as innocent intentions? Yet, he was so generous to us. I like this place. The bees! They have not gone extinct!” He breathed deeply. “Yep. Love it.”
“So, we have a lot of walking. Why not get the Envo?” Pinky asked.
“I think we appear more harmless this way. We have earned enough distrust as it is. Besides, breathe this beautiful air!”
“So if everything around here is so natural, why did Buff man back there have scales on his arms? Is he morphing?” Pinky snickered.
“No, Pinky, I don’t think so. It must have been body modification.”
“Say what? Explain that one to me,” Pinky requested.
“I noticed many pictures of him with big fish on the walls all around. An avid fisherman and outdoorsman, I would assume. With a generous heart. Perhaps the scales on the arms are just an extremely realistic form of tattooing.” Milt smiled.
Pinky said nothing but raised her eyebrows and shook her head.
#
They were making their way through the housing subdivision. Many people gave them strange glances. Milt smiled. He wanted to make it clear they were friendly despite their odd appearance. Cars pulled out of driveways or took off from rooftops, and empty yards with amazingly green grass remained, each one complete with a small garden. They made it to the edge of the neighborhood at what looked like a bus stop. A woman with an apron stood waiting at a small table. "Any coffee, choffee, cheefea, glazed tea, or ambrosia for you lovebirds?"
