Meeting Times
Time is a relative concept, but not a close relative. In the family of 'laws that govern the universe', time would probably be about a third cousin, twice removed, and one that is whispered about as being a 'bit of a disappointment, really.' After all, time is easily swayed, adjusted, warped, bent, and even broken by the various inhabitants of the universe, something that the more 'proper' laws would see as rather weak-willed and fickle.
The oldest of the laws blamed it on time being easily distracted by shiny objects and bright colours, and in the case of the Time Bender, this was definitely a possibility. Even now, as it hurtled Warren through the space-time continuum in a manner not at all similar to the well-known and possibly copyrighted way that the TARDIS does so, but as equally effective in a generic non-infringing way, it continued to shine, pulsate, glow, blink, and flicker with upwards of twenty distinct and legitimate prime colours, most of which Warren had never even dreamed could exist.
If time was enjoying this light display, it put on one of its own, swirling colours and lights together around Warren and the Time Bender until the old drunk felt his spaghetti returning at an alarming speed.
Due to the unpredictable nature of time travel, a mongol in the 5th century, a pirate in the 17th century, and a tree-frog (date unknown) all suddenly found themselves splattered with foul-smelling spaghetti-based goop and no idea where it came from. In the case of one of these three, the sudden emergence of the vomit would change the direction of their life, leading them into a path of theology and reflection upon the nature of God which may never have occurred otherwise, and one which would change the destiny of countless frogs over hundreds of generations.
But this does not concern our story.
With a sudden twinkling of lights, an electronic sounding 'beep', and a flash of mauve, the Time Bender stopped flickering, and fell silent. Time, perhaps bored of playing with the Bender now that it was no longer shiny, deposited it in a time period and wandered off to find something more entertaining, maybe some tin foil blowing in the wind.
Once his stomach had stopped spinning, Warren breathed deeply, and looked around.
Something weird had been going on, and he was darned if he wasn't going to figure out what.
He didn't appear to be in the train station anymore.
This in itself did not surprise him. He had been evicted from the train station on numerous occasions – once even having a bag placed over his head before being driven miles out into the wilderness and released - but had always managed to find his way back. This was obviously just another attempt by Jennie to confuse him.
It had been an effective one, Warren admitted grudgingly, and he had no idea how she had made all those swirly colours and lights happen, but he wasn't worried.
Maybe the purple tennis ball thing had something to do with it.
Warren looked down at the object gingerly, worried that it might start doing whatever it had been doing again. But to all intents and purposes, the object could have been asleep.
Asleep?
Rubbish!
It was some sort of machine. Machines didn't sleep.
Still, no point in doing anything to wake it up.
Warren thought for a moment.
Should he leave the device behind? It could be dangerous.
But, it also could be expensive.
Sighing to himself, he gently placed the globe into the duffell bag he carried all of his belongings in, and looked again at the landscape surrounding him.
He was in a small gully, which was obstructing his view of the surrounding area, and making it impossible for him to determine which direction he needed to walk in to get back to the station.
But that would soon be fixed.
Surprisingly spritely for an old drunk homeless man, Warren scrambled up the gully, and emerged minutes later in a field at the top.
For a few moments, Warren tried to get his bearings.
Then he saw the body, and began wondering if perhaps he was further from the station than he had thought.
***
Jennie blew out the candles on her cake, and everyone cheered.
“Happy Birthday!!”
Her dad, dressed like a ninja, came up to her and gave her a great big father hug.
“Happy birthday sweetie,” he smiled, “I can't believe you're already sixteen.”
He kissed her on the forehead.
Jennie blushed.
“Aw dad, not in front of my friends.”
Her dad laughed.
“I don't care if anyone knows I love my little girl, oh, sorry, young woman!”
He laughed, and opened his mouth to say something else, but suddenly he was shoved aside by a strange man in blue robes, followed by three other men with shaven heads and light grey jumpsuits.
“Jennifer Thomson?” the man asked impatiently.
Jennie frowned.
“Yes?”
“Wait, who are you?” Jennie's dad asked, as one of the jumpsuited figures tried to hold him back.
“Are you the Jennifer Thomson who is manager of the Bertramfieldshire Train Station?” the robed man asked, ignoring Jennie's dad altogether.
“What are you talking about?” Jennie asked, “I'm sixteen. I'm still at school.”
The man cursed, and turned to one of his underlings.
“You idiot,” he growled, “We're far too early!”
“I'm sorry Skylar,” the man stammered, “This device is nowhere near as precise as the Bender is. I must have forgotten to compactify the fifth dimension into the Calabi-Yau spaces...”
“Well, fix it!” the man hissed.
He sighed, and forced a smile on to his face.
Smiling first at Jennie, and then at her father, he said, “I apologise. There has been a mistake. Enjoy your party.”
Then the four strangers turned and left.
***
Jennifer Thomson, beloved wife, mother, grandmother, and great-grandmother lay on her bed, with her family surrounding her.
There were a few sniffles, but most of the family were putting on a brave face as they watched their matriarch facing her final hurdle.
Suddenly, the door opened and a man in blue robes followed by three other men with shaven heads and light grey jumpsuits entered.
The four figures approached the bed, and the man in blue seemed about to say something, when Jennifer laughed.
“Sorry Skylar,” she cackled, “You got it wrong again. Don't worry, you'll get it right on the next attempt.”
Skylar closed his mouth, bowed to the elderly lady, murmured an embarressed 'my condolences' to the highly confused family members, and departed with his entourage, pausing to clip one of the jumpsuited men around the ear.
***
Jennie sat at her desk, filling out some forms, when a cough made her look up.
Standing in front of her was a strangely familiar looking man wearing a blue robe, with three other men with shaven heads and light grey jumpsuits standing behind him.
“Jennifer Thomson?” the blue-robed man asked.
Jennie furrowed her brow.
Where had she seem this man before?
Oh gosh!
Her sixteenth birthday!
Yet he still looked exactly the same.
“Yes,” she found herself saying, “And yes, I am the manager of the Bertramfieldshire train station. How may I help you?”
There was a relieved sigh from one of the jumpsuited men.
The blue-robed man smiled.
“Finally,” he muttered.
"Jennifer," he continued, "We need your help."
What Happened *** What Will Happen
The oldest of the laws blamed it on time being easily distracted by shiny objects and bright colours, and in the case of the Time Bender, this was definitely a possibility. Even now, as it hurtled Warren through the space-time continuum in a manner not at all similar to the well-known and possibly copyrighted way that the TARDIS does so, but as equally effective in a generic non-infringing way, it continued to shine, pulsate, glow, blink, and flicker with upwards of twenty distinct and legitimate prime colours, most of which Warren had never even dreamed could exist.
If time was enjoying this light display, it put on one of its own, swirling colours and lights together around Warren and the Time Bender until the old drunk felt his spaghetti returning at an alarming speed.
Due to the unpredictable nature of time travel, a mongol in the 5th century, a pirate in the 17th century, and a tree-frog (date unknown) all suddenly found themselves splattered with foul-smelling spaghetti-based goop and no idea where it came from. In the case of one of these three, the sudden emergence of the vomit would change the direction of their life, leading them into a path of theology and reflection upon the nature of God which may never have occurred otherwise, and one which would change the destiny of countless frogs over hundreds of generations.
But this does not concern our story.
With a sudden twinkling of lights, an electronic sounding 'beep', and a flash of mauve, the Time Bender stopped flickering, and fell silent. Time, perhaps bored of playing with the Bender now that it was no longer shiny, deposited it in a time period and wandered off to find something more entertaining, maybe some tin foil blowing in the wind.
Once his stomach had stopped spinning, Warren breathed deeply, and looked around.
Something weird had been going on, and he was darned if he wasn't going to figure out what.
He didn't appear to be in the train station anymore.
This in itself did not surprise him. He had been evicted from the train station on numerous occasions – once even having a bag placed over his head before being driven miles out into the wilderness and released - but had always managed to find his way back. This was obviously just another attempt by Jennie to confuse him.
It had been an effective one, Warren admitted grudgingly, and he had no idea how she had made all those swirly colours and lights happen, but he wasn't worried.
Maybe the purple tennis ball thing had something to do with it.
Warren looked down at the object gingerly, worried that it might start doing whatever it had been doing again. But to all intents and purposes, the object could have been asleep.
Asleep?
Rubbish!
It was some sort of machine. Machines didn't sleep.
Still, no point in doing anything to wake it up.
Warren thought for a moment.
Should he leave the device behind? It could be dangerous.
But, it also could be expensive.
Sighing to himself, he gently placed the globe into the duffell bag he carried all of his belongings in, and looked again at the landscape surrounding him.
He was in a small gully, which was obstructing his view of the surrounding area, and making it impossible for him to determine which direction he needed to walk in to get back to the station.
But that would soon be fixed.
Surprisingly spritely for an old drunk homeless man, Warren scrambled up the gully, and emerged minutes later in a field at the top.
For a few moments, Warren tried to get his bearings.
Then he saw the body, and began wondering if perhaps he was further from the station than he had thought.
***
Jennie blew out the candles on her cake, and everyone cheered.
“Happy Birthday!!”
Her dad, dressed like a ninja, came up to her and gave her a great big father hug.
“Happy birthday sweetie,” he smiled, “I can't believe you're already sixteen.”
He kissed her on the forehead.
Jennie blushed.
“Aw dad, not in front of my friends.”
Her dad laughed.
“I don't care if anyone knows I love my little girl, oh, sorry, young woman!”
He laughed, and opened his mouth to say something else, but suddenly he was shoved aside by a strange man in blue robes, followed by three other men with shaven heads and light grey jumpsuits.
“Jennifer Thomson?” the man asked impatiently.
Jennie frowned.
“Yes?”
“Wait, who are you?” Jennie's dad asked, as one of the jumpsuited figures tried to hold him back.
“Are you the Jennifer Thomson who is manager of the Bertramfieldshire Train Station?” the robed man asked, ignoring Jennie's dad altogether.
“What are you talking about?” Jennie asked, “I'm sixteen. I'm still at school.”
The man cursed, and turned to one of his underlings.
“You idiot,” he growled, “We're far too early!”
“I'm sorry Skylar,” the man stammered, “This device is nowhere near as precise as the Bender is. I must have forgotten to compactify the fifth dimension into the Calabi-Yau spaces...”
“Well, fix it!” the man hissed.
He sighed, and forced a smile on to his face.
Smiling first at Jennie, and then at her father, he said, “I apologise. There has been a mistake. Enjoy your party.”
Then the four strangers turned and left.
***
Jennifer Thomson, beloved wife, mother, grandmother, and great-grandmother lay on her bed, with her family surrounding her.
There were a few sniffles, but most of the family were putting on a brave face as they watched their matriarch facing her final hurdle.
Suddenly, the door opened and a man in blue robes followed by three other men with shaven heads and light grey jumpsuits entered.
The four figures approached the bed, and the man in blue seemed about to say something, when Jennifer laughed.
“Sorry Skylar,” she cackled, “You got it wrong again. Don't worry, you'll get it right on the next attempt.”
Skylar closed his mouth, bowed to the elderly lady, murmured an embarressed 'my condolences' to the highly confused family members, and departed with his entourage, pausing to clip one of the jumpsuited men around the ear.
***
Jennie sat at her desk, filling out some forms, when a cough made her look up.
Standing in front of her was a strangely familiar looking man wearing a blue robe, with three other men with shaven heads and light grey jumpsuits standing behind him.
“Jennifer Thomson?” the blue-robed man asked.
Jennie furrowed her brow.
Where had she seem this man before?
Oh gosh!
Her sixteenth birthday!
Yet he still looked exactly the same.
“Yes,” she found herself saying, “And yes, I am the manager of the Bertramfieldshire train station. How may I help you?”
There was a relieved sigh from one of the jumpsuited men.
The blue-robed man smiled.
“Finally,” he muttered.
"Jennifer," he continued, "We need your help."
What Happened *** What Will Happen
posted by Lark Victory | 2:27 PM
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