Button in the Fabric of Time (21 page)

“Time travel became a reality in the
thirty-first century, making it possible to travel back in time,
capture a nanosecond of a person’s life, and move that nanosecond
into the future, to a time when cures for every disease have been
found. Because the body is not being diminished by illnesses, the
cells replenish themselves perfectly. The loved ones we bring
forward could then bring
their
loved ones forward and, in
the end, a form of immortality is achieved. It would be possible to
move further and further into the future, until continued life is
attained.” I paused again so they could catch up with what I was
saying. “Would that not be a form of resurrection?” Their faces
showed that I wasn’t getting through to them.

“Think about it for a moment,” I continued.
“Who would you bring forward? You would bring someone near and dear
to you, of course. . . . Perhaps even the worst of men were loved
by someone. By traveling into the future, I’ve learned that it’s
possible, even today, to solve most of humankind’s problems
collectively. But before that can happen, we must solve the
problems of religious prejudice, bigotry, and fear. Then we’ll have
to solve the problems of greed and lust for power.”

“The ability to reason is the Creator’s
greatest gift to humans. When reason and faith collide, one or the
other is abandoned. The people of Jan’s time teach: ‘Strive for
beauty and knowledge. When you attain them, deny them to no
one.’”

“Looking back at the old photograph,” I said,
“the camera that produced this tintype captured a moment in the
lives of our ancestors, and we have brought that moment to this
time. We’re seeing them now as they were 120 years ago. Your
grandparents have not aged in this picture. It still shows them
just as they were, and they will stay the same as long as this
tintype exists.

“I never thought of it like that, but you’re
right,” Grandpa said.

“I agree about the movies,” Dad said. “It
is
a form of immortality! We are beginning to hear people
talk of time as a fourth dimension. Some men of science are saying
time travel might become a possibility. Is that what you’re trying
to tell us?”

“That’s exactly what I’m trying to say.” I
took the button from my pocket and showed it to them. “With this
button, I can travel backward or forward in time. That’s what I did
when I obtained the inscription in the wedding band. I went back
and watched Mr. Hawberg do the engraving. I then wrote what he had
engraved on the newspaper and brought the paper back with me.”

Dad said, “I noticed that the newsprint
looked fresh, but you disappeared for only an instant. How did you
do all that in only a second?”

“The traveler travels in time, but time does
not change for the traveler. If I had wanted to, I could have
returned in the same instant that I left. I did a slight delay to
illustrate a point.”

Grandpa was always a curious man, and he had
to know how things worked. He reached for the button and said, “Let
me see that thing.”

“Eeeasy, Grandpa, let me show you how to use
it. You could find yourself someplace you don’t like and not know
how to get back. Now, hold your hand out with your palm up. I’m
going to place the button in your hand. Examine it, but don’t rub
it. If it starts to vibrate or hum, put it down.”

I placed the button in Grandpa’s palm. “Feels
nice,” he said. “It’s heavier than I thought it would be. How does
it work?”

I explained about the colors, and told him
what would happen if he rubbed them.

Grandpa said, “I’d like to try it. I lost my
watch in the barn yesterday. I’d like to go back and get it. Could
I do that?”

“Of course you can. Do you remember what you
were doing just before you lost the watch?”

“Yeah, I was milking the cows.”

“All right, but I’ll go with you. I’ll hold
on to you and you do as I say. Think of what you were doing
yesterday while milking the cows, then rub the red area.” He rubbed
the button, and we were in the barn yesterday. There was Grandpa
with his back to us, milking the Jersey cow, with his watch on.
When he finished milking, he got up. The clasp on the watch came
unfastened, so it fell into the loose straw at his feet. Without
realizing it, he kicked straw over it as he walked away. So now,
the Grandpa I was with reached down, picked up the watch, and put
it on, without being seen by the Grandpa milking the cow.

“Now, rub white!” I whispered. He did, and we
were back sitting on the porch.

“Aren’t you going to do it?” Dad asked,
looking at us.

Grandpa grinned from ear to ear. “What do you
mean, aren’t we going to do it? We’ve done it! See, here’s my
watch.”

Dad was dumbfounded, shook his head, got up
and said as he walked away, “This is too much for me. I think I’ll
go talk to the girls.”

Grandpa slapped me on the shoulder and said,
“By Jove, Augustus, you’ve made a believer outta me; let’s go tell
the girls!” He was excited and wanted to tell someone, but no one
would listen. After a time, he put his arm around my shoulders and
said, “Now, Augustus, I understand your problem.”

* * * * *

Chapter 26

Jan and Mother were almost as excited as
Grandpa—only they were excited about the wedding.

Jan said, “Mother and I are going into town
to buy a gown and get the announcements printed. Do you want to
come along?”

Dad looked up at me through his eyebrows, and
shook his head slightly. I took the hint, and said, “No, I think
I’ll clean up the cottage and get it ready for our honeymoon.”

“All right,” Jan said, as she and Mother
walked out the door. “We’ll see you at supper time.”

I was pleased to note that Jan was learning
fast. She called my mother “Mother,” and she didn’t call the
evening meal “dinner.”

“You’re going to be too busy to fix supper,”
I said, “so we’ll meet you at the Bon Ton.”

“What’s the Bon Ton?” Jan asked.

“It’s a family-style restaurant. They serve
good food there, and you’ll meet some of my childhood friends.
We’ll see you there at six.”

* * *

The cottage was neat as a pin. All it needed
was a little sprucing up. I mowed the lawn, trimmed the shrubs, and
picked up the dead branches in the glen. It didn’t have the
immaculate look of the thirty-first century, but the arched
footbridge across the stream and the fragrance of the wildflowers
gave it a charm that would have been difficult to duplicate.

It was 5 o’clock when I got back to the
house. Dad and Grandpa were dressed and ready. I didn’t want to
look conspicuous, so I dressed in western attire. As a convenience,
I kept western clothes in my room, string tie, boots, and all, so I
wouldn’t look out of place in Stoville.

When we got to the restaurant, Mother and Jan
hadn’t yet arrived. Jim, the owner, knew that Jan would draw a
crowd, and he wanted his restaurant to benefit, so he seated us by
the window. Everyone in town had heard about Jan and they were all
eager to see her. I was the third generation of Wilders who had
lived in Stoville. Dad and Grandpa had beer, and I had coffee while
we waited.

Jan and Mother soon arrived, both looking
very happy. Every table in the restaurant filled almost
immediately. Jan was even bubblier than normal. Her golden hair,
blue eyes, sparkling smile, accentuated by her perfect features and
glowing skin, made her something worth seeing. Mother was radiant.
She had a daughter now, and she was preparing for her daughter’s
wedding. I was her son, but all she gave me was a motherly
smile.

Darla Firth, the girl I had had a childhood
crush on, was seated at the same table where she had sat 12 years
ago, only this time she had her two children with her. I smiled,
she smiled back and waved.
She sure took a long time to do
that.

Jan took my arm and said, “Gus, I like your
town. Everybody is so friendly and helpful. We ordered the
invitations; the printer is working overtime to complete the order.
He’s going to bring them by here when he gets them printed. We
hired a caterer to prepare and serve the food at the wedding
reception. He almost fainted when we told him how many people we
were expecting.” Jan bounced up and down when she said, “And I
selected a wedding gown. I can’t wait for you to see it. Mother was
wonderful; she knew exactly what I would like.”

Again I noticed she didn’t say, “Your
mother”—she said “Mother.” Dad and Grandpa noticed also, and I
could tell by their faces that they were pleased.

Dad said quietly, “You sure know how to pick
’em, son.”

“It seems to me that we both know how to pick
’em,” I whispered to Dad.

He smiled and nodded.

So many people were coming by our table to
meet Jan that thirty minutes went by before we could place our
order for food.

As Jim took our orders he said, “I remember
you. . . . You ate breakfast here about 12 years ago.” He held out
his wrist. “You left this watch.”

I grinned guiltily, reached for my wallet,
and said, “I’ll pay my bill now.”

“No, you won’t,” he said shaking his head and
pulling his hand back. “I like this watch. It’s been a good-luck
charm for me. It’s because of this watch that I own this restaurant
and have a wonderful family. I’d like for you and Jan to meet my
wife and kids.” He turned to the table where Darla was sitting and
called out, “Darla, bring the children, I want to introduce you to
a friend.”

I stood waiting for Darla to arrive, and Jan
stood with me.

Darla was 30, and she looked it, but she was
still pretty. She said, “I need no introduction to Augustus; I’ve
known him all my life, but I’m pleased to meet Jan.”

I took Darla’s hand and said, “You’re still
as pretty as ever, Darla, and your children are beautiful.” Turning
to Jan, I said, “Jan, this is the girl I told you about. You can
see why I had a crush on her.”

“I sure can,” Jan said as she smiled and
hugged Darla. “Thank you, Darla, for saving him for me. I hope we
can have children as pretty as yours and Jim’s.”

I was so proud of Jan that my chest was about
to burst through my shirt.

Jim voiced the question that others were
wondering about when he asked, “If you and Darla are the same age,
how come you look so young? Twelve years ago, you looked older than
you do now.”

“It’s a long story. I’ll tell you about it
when we have more time.”

Darla nodded graciously and returned to her
table. She looked puzzled also. We placed our orders.

* * *

So that the people who lived in Boston would
receive their invitations in time, Jan and I hand-delivered them.
We avoided seeing the people, but it was fun going from address to
address, and seeing the various homes.

* * *

The Big Day came, and the weather was
wonderful. The chapel couldn’t hold all the guests. Many watched
and listened through the open doors and windows. Music played.

Jan’s flawless beauty was enhanced by the
flowing white wedding gown adorned with the jewels she had brought
with her. On her head, she wore a diamond tiara. Around her neck
she wore a necklace of rubies, emeralds, and diamonds. The gown was
low-cut in the front, and form fitted around the bodice, waist, and
hips. The train was long, but not so long that it would get in the
way. She wore gold slippers and a bouquet of pink rosebuds,
accented with white cattleya orchids. I was dressed in my
finest.

When the preacher said, “I now pronounce you
man and wife,” Jan squeezed my hand a little tighter. We embraced
to the applause of the guests. Mother was crying, but her face was
aglow with happiness.

Dad announced, “The reception will be in the
glen. We have prepared a feast, and we hope to see all of you
there.”

Carpenters had built a dance floor. The first
dance was a waltz. Jan and I did a solo dance, then all the men
wanted to dance with Jan, and she was enjoying the attention. The
guests dined and danced through the night, but around midnight Jan
and I slipped away to the cottage. The cottage was a good walk from
the main house; a full moon illuminated our path. I couldn’t
imagine how any man could ever have had a more beautiful bride, or
a more satisfying wedding night.

* * *

The sun was high when we dressed. A delicious
breakfast tray had been placed on the table outside the door. We
ate while sitting on the porch overlooking the valley. I had seen
this view of the stream, the valley, and the hills beyond many
times, but it had never looked so good.

* * *

“Jan, I want to take you horseback riding. A
beautiful trail wanders along the stream and through the
hills.”

“I’ve never ridden!”

“We have a golden brown stallion with a black
mane and tail. He has always been gentle, and I think you’ll like
him. We can end the ride any time you like. I’ve taken the liberty
of buying you a riding habit—boots, hat, and all.”

After a short time, Jan was riding like she
was born to ranch life. We stopped in the shade of a big tree to
let the horses rest.

In a serious moment, she said, “We in the
thirty-first century have attained many things, but we have lost
the sense of adventure that you have, and the closeness of family.
Courage and caring are not appreciated as they should be. You are
bringing that back, and we thank you for it. I’m proud to have you
for my husband.”

I held her close and said, “I’m the luckiest
man who has ever lived to have you for my wife. I’ve had engravings
made in our rings that read ‘Until the end of time.’”

I had never yet seen Jan cry, but there were
tears of happiness in her eyes. We spent more and more time with my
folks until one day Jan said, “Gus, we’re needed in the
thirty-first century.”