Author : Roi R. Czechvala, Staff Writer

He awoke to the cloying smell of marijuana mixed with patchouli. His eyes fell on a poster featuring a cartoon rendering of a short bald man in yellow robes and flowing white beard. One sandaled foot was outthrust. The caption below the figure admonished the viewer to “Keep on Truckin'”

A soft sigh drew his attention back to the stunning beauty beside him. Soft auburn hair framed an angelic face. Her flawless skin was creamy white. He ran his hand across her full, firm breasts and down her taut stomach. Her eyes fluttered open. She smiled at him. “I love you, Dave.” She grabbed him and squeezed gently.

“Hey,” he said laughing, “I need those.” He bent and kissed her softly on the forehead. He rose and began to dress.

“You don’t have to go. You can stay with me. What’s there that you can’t have here,” she asked.

“Nothing Sweetheart, you know that. It is better here. Much better.”

“Look, there’s this guy in California I read about. He’s got a ranch in Death Valley. We could go there.”

“You don’t want to go there. Trust me. Nothing good will come of that place. I know.”

“Yeah, you do. Won’t you stay for me? For this?” She rose displaying her shapely figure and long legs to full advantage. Her unshaven armpits did nothing to curb the lust he felt.

“I want to, Beautiful, I want to so bad. But you know I can’t stay. I have work to do.”

“Come back to me. Promise you’ll come back. Promise me.”

“I will, Carol. I promise. To this very day.”

“How will you remember this very day.” She pursed her lips in a very attractive pout.

“How could I forget, Beautiful? Besides, it’s my birthday today. Or will be. In thirty years. I still can’t believe that you believed me right away. You’re too trusting.”

“I could read it in your eyes. Besides, any day now men will be walking on the moon. Why shouldn’t I believe that in sixty years there will be time travellers.” She wrapped her arms around him and laid her head on his chest. “Please, come back to me.”

He bent and kissed her gently. “I will.”

“Dave, are you all right?” Several men ran to the crumpled form of Dr. David Jansen.

“What happened? Did I… The experiment…”

“Nothing happened,” replied Dr. Jay Snell, helping his stricken colleague to his feet. “You entered the machine, everything went fuzzy for a moment, there was a brilliant flash, then you collapsed.”

“So, it didn’t work?”


“But I remember…”

A young woman burst into the lab. “Dr. Jansen. There is someone here to see you. I explained you were busy, she insisted. She said she is… urff…”

An elderly woman pushed the young lab assistant aside and with determination strode to face Dr. Jansen. “You lied, you told me you’d come back. You promised you’d come back to me. You lied.”

“Grandma, what are you doing here? You should be at the home. I promise I’ll visit Tuesday.”

“You promised you’d come back to me sixty years ago. You lied.”

“What are you talking about? I…,” his face fell as realization sank in.

“Why didn’t you come back to me? Was it because of her?” She pointed at the lab assistant, pulling her red hair back into a ponytail. “Does she remind you of someone?”

“Grandma… Caroline? No…”

“There is the question of our daughter. Do you think we should tell her? How do you think your… mother… will take it.”

“I’m going to be sick.”


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