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#timetravel
I come a little closer but Nico shoves the picture away from me.
"Hey!" I yell and want to snatch it, yet I don't manage.
He stares at the image, putting it up in the light coming in through an open window.
"This has to be photoshopped. There's NO WAY this is real. I mean..." he mumbles. I notice he turned pale within seconds. This cannot be good.
"What is it, weirdo?" I get impatient. I don't like not knowing what's the matter. Plus, it's not easy to be back in this room after so long. It's been two years already. It almost feels like a dream. Everything looks just the way it used to on that day. Even dad's shirt is laid out on the bed, ready to be worn. I bet it would've been too big on me. He's had some muscle as a carpenter, and I... Well, let's say I'm not exactly the sporty type.
"I don't know..."
I groan.
"Stop this, would you?"
Annoyed, I take the picture away from my brother while gracing him with an unpleasant gaze.
Then I turn away to actually have a look.
There's a park bench. Our dad sitting on it with some lady, a fountain and blooming apple trees behind them make me think it must've been spring. They're both smiling and... They're holding hands. Dad's wearing his favorite white shirt and the lady's in a sundress, her long hair put up in a bun. Which seems not to have been too cooperative with the wind on that day, because it's extremely messy. She also has a pair of sunglasses on. They're dark enough for me not to be able to see her eyes.
"What about it?" I shrug.
I think I expected some kind of catastrophe. Like dad taking part in something illegal. And him on a date with some woman hardly came off as such. He appears to be around thirty in that picture. So it was taken after our mom's death. I don't see the reason behind Nico's panicky response.
"Don't you see who that is?" He wails, clenching his hands on his forearms.
"Dad on a bench with some woman. What's so extraordinary about it?" - I'm confused, this is getting too intense for my liking.
"That woman" he repeats.
I sigh.
"She's pretty, alright."
"Oh, my God. You really can't see it, can you?" He approaches me. "This " he points at the lady "is Cara Rowan. Great actress of the 50s who has been dead for thirty years at the point when this picture was taken. And she died at 83."
For a moment I stare at my brother, trying to let that sink in. I mean, I've always known Nico should've been born in a different era but didn't exactly suppose he's familiar with old cinema actresses.
"It's only your imagination" I decide.
He takes out his phone and starts typing.
I look at him like he's crazy. "Nico, there's absolutely no way dad took a picture with some long-dead actress on a park bench. You're being delusional."
He doesn't say anything, only hands me his cell. I see a picture of a smiling woman, wearing exactly the same dress she had in the picture with our dad. Only now I can see her eyes. And they look exactly like mine.
"Oh, my God..."
I stand motionless, only the fingers of both of my hands intensify their grip on the picture and Nico's cell phone. My heart sank. I can feel its irregular beats mimicking blowing bubbles underwater. My ribcage either shrunk or suddenly widened so significantly that it made my intestines too small or too big for normal functioning of my body.
"Give me that" my brother takes both items from me and takes a look at them himself. "Listen, I don't know what this means just yet, but I'm sure there must be a sensible explanation."
"Sensible?" I chuckle nervously. "How can you use that word in connection to this?"
He rolls his eyes.
"Let's stay calm. We simply need to..." Nico starts pacing around the room, making the wooden floor creak.
I try snapping out of it but it's difficult to be stronger than your tremor. So I just keep standing while my brother begins going through the drawer again. He takes everything out of it to the point when there's nothing left inside.
"What? You think there's more?"
I don't exactly feel ready for another sensation. I'm still not over the fact I resemble some dead actress I never knew of up until now.
"Look." He tosses me something that looks like a compass but it's a bit different. Its graduated dial is divided into two parts, one colored black, the other bright gold. It doesn't have any pointer, but there's a tiny golden lump that's floating in some substance under the glass. Apart from that, it looks like an old, pocket watch.
"What's this?" I frown.
"I've never seen anything quite like this before."
Welcome to America, Columbus.
"Do you think it works?" I toss it back to him. He catches it at the last moment.
"I would've had to know how it's supposed to work first."
"Ok, be blunt, mister smart-pants. What do you think?"
"Well, there are only two options. One, dad liked to picture himself next to dead people and collect bizarre gadgets, or he knew how to time-travel. And the woman from this picture is our mother."
"But she can't be our mother! We've seen their wedding pictures, family albums, everything!"
He shrugs.
"It's not so difficult to fabricate some pictures and documents, you know?"
"Exactly!" I shriek like I'm in about to drown. "So he could fabricate that one, too!" I pick up the picture and try looking for some abnormalities.
"If he added her to this one, she would've been more grained than him. They didn't have this well-developed camera in the 50s and the difference in quality would be obvious."
"You can't actually think our father could travel in time!" I throw my hands into the air.
This cannot be real. It's just ridiculous.
I'm ready to have a major panic attack when we hear someone running upstairs. I deduct it's our cousin Daisy, who must be done with waiting for the ice cream we promised her. But it's...
"Uncle Joe?!" Nico almost falls to the floor and I'm close to blacking out. This man is dead. Has been for the last five years. But it's not over. Our father in the flesh materializes behind him, holding the dead actress by the hand.
"There's no time!" Our father flings himself at us, letting go of the actress. He takes the compass from Nico's hand, then pushes us to the window.
"What the hell?!" I scream.
The window is open, we're inches away from falling out.
"I TOLD YOU it was gonna end up this way, Joe! Could you not just listen to me only this once?" Dad nudges us against the window frame.
"Hey!" Nico yells loud enough for it to wake the dead.
"Max, stop poking them!" The actress suddenly steps between us all and separates us from dad.
They look each other in the eye for a brief moment, then he steps away.
I can't stop shaking. I tremble so bad my teeth jitter.
"No one's here yet, calm down." Uncle Joe comes into the room and closes the door behind himself. "You're overreacting."
"I am overreacting?" Our father gets on the edge. I can tell by his forehead's expression, cut with anger lines. "And who almost killed us while trying to be credible?"
"Max..." The actress caresses his cheek with a slight hint of a smile on her face. "The boys" she articulates slowly.
Dad twitches like he's just woken up, then looks at us, and takes a deep breath.
He's in about to say something when we all hear a helicopter's sound.
"Just great" he shakes his head. "Ok, guys. Out the window."
"It's just a helicopter, you're paranoid." Uncle rolls his eyes.
"It might as well be them. Everybody out. I don't want any blood on my hands."
"But..." I stutter. It all feels like a weird nightmare. I barely manage to utter a word.
The actress, I guess her name is Cara, touches my hand.
"It's ok, Leo. We just need to get down, that's all." She smiles at me gently and I can't escape the impression Nico's got her smile. And, apparently, she's aware of my name, too.
Nico is so pale he could win against any wall in the wall whiteness contest. I presume I look no better.
"What's going on?" He pleads.
"Son, out of this window. Now."
Cara sighs silently.
"Let's get out for now. He might just calm down when we're down."
Before I know it, I'm pushed out of the window and made to go down a near-standing tree. My brother joins me shortly afterward, crying out that he demands answers.
"For the love of God, be quiet!" Uncle Joe leads us to the basement door. We're all squeezed in, then somebody locks the door and turns the light on.
"Can someone please tell me what is going on?!"
I come a little closer but Nico shoves the picture away from me.
"Hey!" I yell and want to snatch it, yet I don't manage.
He stares at the image, putting it up in the light coming in through an open window.
"This has to be photoshopped. There's NO WAY this is real. I mean..." he mumbles. I notice he turned pale within seconds. This cannot be good.
"What is it, weirdo?" I get impatient. I don't like not knowing what's the matter. Plus, it's not easy to be back in this room after so long. It's been two years already. It almost feels like a dream. Everything looks just the way it used to on that day. Even dad's shirt is laid out on the bed, ready to be worn. I bet it would've been too big on me. He's had some muscle as a carpenter, and I... Well, let's say I'm not exactly the sporty type.
"I don't know..."
I groan.
"Stop this, would you?"
Annoyed, I take the picture away from my brother while gracing him with an unpleasant gaze.
Then I turn away to actually have a look.
There's a park bench. Our dad sitting on it with some lady, a fountain and blooming apple trees behind them make me think it must've been spring. They're both smiling and... They're holding hands. Dad's wearing his favorite white shirt and the lady's in a sundress, her long hair put up in a bun. Which seems not to have been too cooperative with the wind on that day, because it's extremely messy. She also has a pair of sunglasses on. They're dark enough for me not to be able to see her eyes.
"What about it?" I shrug.
I think I expected some kind of catastrophe. Like dad taking part in something illegal. And him on a date with some woman hardly came off as such. He appears to be around thirty in that picture. So it was taken after our mom's death. I don't see the reason behind Nico's panicky response.
"Don't you see who that is?" He wails, clenching his hands on his forearms.
"Dad on a bench with some woman. What's so extraordinary about it?" - I'm confused, this is getting too intense for my liking.
"That woman" he repeats.
I sigh.
"She's pretty, alright."
"Oh, my God. You really can't see it, can you?" He approaches me. "This " he points at the lady "is Cara Rowan. Great actress of the 50s who has been dead for thirty years at the point when this picture was taken. And she died at 83."
For a moment I stare at my brother, trying to let that sink in. I mean, I've always known Nico should've been born in a different era but didn't exactly suppose he's familiar with old cinema actresses.
"It's only your imagination" I decide.
He takes out his phone and starts typing.
I look at him like he's crazy. "Nico, there's absolutely no way dad took a picture with some long-dead actress on a park bench. You're being delusional."
He doesn't say anything, only hands me his cell. I see a picture of a smiling woman, wearing exactly the same dress she had in the picture with our dad. Only now I can see her eyes. And they look exactly like mine.
"Oh, my God..."
I stand motionless, only the fingers of both of my hands intensify their grip on the picture and Nico's cell phone. My heart sank. I can feel its irregular beats mimicking blowing bubbles underwater. My ribcage either shrunk or suddenly widened so significantly that it made my intestines too small or too big for normal functioning of my body.
"Give me that" my brother takes both items from me and takes a look at them himself. "Listen, I don't know what this means just yet, but I'm sure there must be a sensible explanation."
"Sensible?" I chuckle nervously. "How can you use that word in connection to this?"
He rolls his eyes.
"Let's stay calm. We simply need to..." Nico starts pacing around the room, making the wooden floor creak.
I try snapping out of it but it's difficult to be stronger than your tremor. So I just keep standing while my brother begins going through the drawer again. He takes everything out of it to the point when there's nothing left inside.
"What? You think there's more?"
I don't exactly feel ready for another sensation. I'm still not over the fact I resemble some dead actress I never knew of up until now.
"Look." He tosses me something that looks like a compass but it's a bit different. Its graduated dial is divided into two parts, one colored black, the other bright gold. It doesn't have any pointer, but there's a tiny golden lump that's floating in some substance under the glass. Apart from that, it looks like an old, pocket watch.
"What's this?" I frown.
"I've never seen anything quite like this before."
Welcome to America, Columbus.
"Do you think it works?" I toss it back to him. He catches it at the last moment.
"I would've had to know how it's supposed to work first."
"Ok, be blunt, mister smart-pants. What do you think?"
"Well, there are only two options. One, dad liked to picture himself next to dead people and collect bizarre gadgets, or he knew how to time-travel. And the woman from this picture is our mother."
"But she can't be our mother! We've seen their wedding pictures, family albums, everything!"
He shrugs.
"It's not so difficult to fabricate some pictures and documents, you know?"
"Exactly!" I shriek like I'm in about to drown. "So he could fabricate that one, too!" I pick up the picture and try looking for some abnormalities.
"If he added her to this one, she would've been more grained than him. They didn't have this well-developed camera in the 50s and the difference in quality would be obvious."
"You can't actually think our father could travel in time!" I throw my hands into the air.
This cannot be real. It's just ridiculous.
I'm ready to have a major panic attack when we hear someone running upstairs. I deduct it's our cousin Daisy, who must be done with waiting for the ice cream we promised her. But it's...
"Uncle Joe?!" Nico almost falls to the floor and I'm close to blacking out. This man is dead. Has been for the last five years. But it's not over. Our father in the flesh materializes behind him, holding the dead actress by the hand.
"There's no time!" Our father flings himself at us, letting go of the actress. He takes the compass from Nico's hand, then pushes us to the window.
"What the hell?!" I scream.
The window is open, we're inches away from falling out.
"I TOLD YOU it was gonna end up this way, Joe! Could you not just listen to me only this once?" Dad nudges us against the window frame.
"Hey!" Nico yells loud enough for it to wake the dead.
"Max, stop poking them!" The actress suddenly steps between us all and separates us from dad.
They look each other in the eye for a brief moment, then he steps away.
I can't stop shaking. I tremble so bad my teeth jitter.
"No one's here yet, calm down." Uncle Joe comes into the room and closes the door behind himself. "You're overreacting."
"I am overreacting?" Our father gets on the edge. I can tell by his forehead's expression, cut with anger lines. "And who almost killed us while trying to be credible?"
"Max..." The actress caresses his cheek with a slight hint of a smile on her face. "The boys" she articulates slowly.
Dad twitches like he's just woken up, then looks at us, and takes a deep breath.
He's in about to say something when we all hear a helicopter's sound.
"Just great" he shakes his head. "Ok, guys. Out the window."
"It's just a helicopter, you're paranoid." Uncle rolls his eyes.
"It might as well be them. Everybody out. I don't want any blood on my hands."
"But..." I stutter. It all feels like a weird nightmare. I barely manage to utter a word.
The actress, I guess her name is Cara, touches my hand.
"It's ok, Leo. We just need to get down, that's all." She smiles at me gently and I can't escape the impression Nico's got her smile. And, apparently, she's aware of my name, too.
Nico is so pale he could win against any wall in the wall whiteness contest. I presume I look no better.
"What's going on?" He pleads.
"Son, out of this window. Now."
Cara sighs silently.
"Let's get out for now. He might just calm down when we're down."
Before I know it, I'm pushed out of the window and made to go down a near-standing tree. My brother joins me shortly afterward, crying out that he demands answers.
"For the love of God, be quiet!" Uncle Joe leads us to the basement door. We're all squeezed in, then somebody locks the door and turns the light on.
"Can someone please tell me what is going on?!"
