The Business of Time Travel Tourism

Chapter 26: The Memories of A Time Cop

July 1, 2014. Tuesday.

It was midday, when John and Sandy walked back to George's house together with a young couple, wearing most uncommon clothes. With green reflective t-shirts and shorts, they radiated intense light whenever they were under the sun. Four of them chatted and laughed for a short while. Then, the couple put their helmets on and vanished.

Max rushed out of the house. Passing Sandy and John, he strode towards the direction of the train station without saying a word. He carried a large, heavy bag on his shoulder. Zoop followed him. With the short legs, he had to run to keep up.

The door of the house opened for the third time. It was Sally wearing her uniform with a burned out hole on the back. Before walking away, she gave both her tranquilizing guns to John and Sandy and said, "George will explain," then ran off to the direction the first two time travelers went to, shouting, "C'mon, Max, slow down, let us help, those things are heavy!"

The two friends were almost on the stairs when George walked out with his trademark white shirt and white shorts on. Contrary to others, he kept his cool. He yawned and pick his long nose before talking. "Hey," he greeted his friends.

"Hey," said John.

"Many things had happened while you were away."

"I see." John glanced at the chair leg lying on the ground.

"These are for self-defense." George pointed at the guns in his friends' hands. "I will ask you to take shifts and stay in the cellar twenty-four seven starting tomorrow. We will use dissaperator to bring people, including Alfonso to you. I want them shot down and constrained. Use two or three darts, just to be safe.

"Zoop insists you do the same to Dang or other gray people who wear no sunglasses. We met an evil guy in a scuba suit today; then there is that weirdo who tortured Sandy, the guards at the mansion. You never know what we might meet. Just shoot anyone you don't know who appears out of thin air. You can find some rope in the chest in the cellar."

"Ok. We won't let you down." John knitted his brows, Sandy did the same.

"Why so serious? Everything will be fine, you'll see. Jim is off the leash, I'm sure he will help if you get into trouble." George gave them a smile and added, "Oh, and..."

"Yes?"

"Did you receive anything of value today? I took a little gold bar from Max, grabbed the coins we got from the old couple. I'm heading to Hill's to cash it out. We will need all the money we can get in Crossroad."

"Here you go," Sandy said. She put five shiny yellowish coins into George's palm. They were identical to the ones left by the old couple.

"Thanks. See you soon, John, Sandy." George nodded to them both, as he walked away.

"Bye," they replied together.

When George turned round the corner and disappeared from his friends' sight, he ran off towards the Hill's pawnshop.

———

Catching his breath, George was happy to see that the shop was still working. The fence and the 'keep away signs' had disappeared. Everything had returned to normal. However, a lack of cars parked outside indicated a decline in clients. George remembered the place swarming with people bringing, buying junk, sometimes even trading it in the doorway.

A hanging doorbell jingled above his head when George stepped in. Not much had changed since his last visit, only the shelves looked emptier and no people in creepy suits were there to make him leave.

Sitting by the cashier was Mr. Hill himself. All alive and well, looking a little worried, a little upset. There was not a single hair on the top of his head. The absence of hair, on itself, George thought, was a decent reason to be upset for any man. The old man hummed a tune, mimicking the classic music being played on a stereo lying on the shelf behind him and wrote in another word into a crossword.