Michael Through Time

Chapter 2

"Who are you?"

That made the man in the cell laugh. "You really must be from the future if you don't know who I am."

"So you gonna tell me or not?" I demanded.

The officer was about to bellow something when the prisoner gave him a pleading look. The officer wanted to say something angry, but thought better of it. He nodded. 

"My name is Louis. Once upon a time, I was a school teacher." 

Teacher? Ugh. Teachers sucked. Teachers didn't tend to spend time in prison, unless they were teaching something heinous. "You were put in jail for teaching?"

The prisoner laughed some more. "Not at all. I just wanted a better life for my people." 

"Louis," The officer glared at him menacingly. 

"He asked the question," Louis pointed out. 

"We don't need to go through this again." The officer looked stern. 

"And we won't. I'm here aren't I? Let me enjoy this." 

"Fine. No politics." 

"No politics," Louis promised. The guard became stoic after that, leaving Louis and I to just talk. 

"You are interesting." Louis said. 

"Interesting?"

"I can't decide if you are the most ignorant englishmen I've ever met or if you are really from the future. Either way, it's refreshing to talk to a stranger."

"We don't have to be strangers," I said. "Name's Michael." 

"Good to meet you Michael. My name is Louis." 

"Cool. So you have no problems believing I'm from the future?" 

"Why not? The world is a bigger place than I. Who can say what is possible? Can I ask you something about the future?"

"If I can answer, sure."

"Are my people better?"

"People?" I got a good look at my Louis. He seemed almost like the mounties here, but his skin was a darker complexion. Kind of red. Indian clicked on me and I almost shuddered. There was no good answer to give him here. Natives are not treated well in Canada. They have lands and treaties, but for the most part, the reserves were like ghettos and lots of natives wasted away in them. A lot of Canadians believe it's their fault. They didn't adapt to our way of life. I never bought that. I always believed that people were people, no matter where they came from. They had reasons for being who they are, and maybe, they were not entitled to change for anyone. 

I shook my head. A bit of hope evaporated on Louis' face. I don't know what my face said, but I felt like crap. 

"Are you alright?"

"So it was all for nothing then."

"What was for nothing?" I asked. 

"Why I'm here. What I fought for."

"Louis!" 

"Yeah, yeah, no politics." Louis just sat back and just looked in the distance for awhile. I think he decided to be depressed for a bit. I felt like crap, and had no idea why. What had he done? Why was he here? 

This unspoken agreement with the guard pissed me off. How the heck was I going to know? 

"You're from the future?" The guard asked. 

"Yeah?" 

"So Canada is still around where you're from?"

"Yeah."
 

"Does the railroad become a big thing?" 

"What railroad?"

"You mean, this railroad doesn't exist?" 

"We have trains and stuff, but I have no idea what you are talking about."

"They don't remember..." Now the guard grew silent and distant and I can tell that he too was depressed. Was it something I did? I mean, I could describe the future and maybe both would feel better. But what do you tell someone in the past about the toys of tomorrow? Things I took for granted, people here would be blown away by. And the things that mattered to them? Relics and antiques of the past at best, forgotten thoughts and moments in time at most. There was a reason we all were where we were. It is here we fit in the grand scheme of things. 

Louis seemed to laugh at the guard's misery. "Thank you my friend. That alone makes me happy."

"You're not depressed anymore?" I dared to ask. 

"Well, you see, I think you're some lost villager from some isolated part of the frontier. Maybe an explosion trying to put together that damn track idled your brain. So it's possible this is all some prank. On the other hand, if you are telling the truth, then as sad as that is, I can only go forward. I didn't do this to be remembered. I did this for a better life." 

"What did you do?"

"I fought some of his kind and killed them. I led men into battle, and I lost."

"Murderer." The guard exclaimed, out of his reverie and furious. 

"I killed yes. I watched men and women die. People I loved." There was a mountain of sadness in each word. I didn't know how to take it all in. It's heavy to hear someone killed a man, let alone men. I was always told killing was wrong. And don't get me wrong, killing is wrong. 

But, my dad was a soldier. He served in the army and was sent off to fight and protect our freedoms. Every day people fought and died. The struggle hadn't ended. Was what Louis did any different than what my dad had done before he died? Was one more right than the other? I had no answer to that. I wanted to think my dad a hero. Did someone think him a monster for doing what he had done? I never thought about it that way before. 

What would I ask my dad if I could see him again? 

"Was it worth it?" I asked. 

"I don't know," Louis answered. "I wish I hadn't killed. I wish my family and I could have lived in peace. Yet I fought and would do so again for the same reasons. I wouldn't change what I did, even if I had to do it over again. To me, my people were worth it." 

Would my dad have said the same thing? I think so. I think maybe everybody that fights for someone else would say something like that anyway. Comic books didn't do heroics justice. The world was a more complicated place than I ever realized. 

I was about to continue when the room was blinded by an intense flash. It looked like my ride was here. 

"What was that?" Louis asked. 

"My ride. I'm getting out of here." 

"Are you heading back to the future?" 

"I have no idea. It takes me wherever." 

"I see,h Louis said. gGood luck Michael." 

"And to you good sir."

I felt myself being sucked in. The mountie mouthed something incomprehensible. I think he was threatening me when the vortex lifted me in the air. His jaw and Louis' dropped and I disappeared into the hole. It was a deeper conversation than I expected to have in a prison cell. I hoped my next trip in time didn't find me in there. So far, this whole time travel thing has been a giant case of jailhouse rock. I was sick of it. 

I hadn't thought about dad in a long time. Would I get to see him again? He died when I was a kid. I barely remembered him, but I think it'd be cool to actually have that moment to chat. Then there's my mom. Would I see her again? And even if I did, would I still be a kid? It may be years before I go home, if ever. 

What had I gotten myself into?