BACK AND FORTH-I

CHAPTER 7

  Inside the shop, the aroma of fresh tobacco filled the air. The store is old-fashioned, in semi-darkness, not bright, as are many modern stores. The stocked shelves held pipes, tobacco tins and cigarette cartons. I'm reminded of the smells of my childhood, I recalled times when my grandfather would take me into town to buy himself a new pipe and buy a treat for me.  As I gazed about, I started from my reminiscences by a voice from behind me.

        "Can I help you, sir?" asked the short, chubby, balding, bespectacled storekeeper.

        "Might I trouble you for five copies of the Shropshire Star?"

  I am trying to be polite, but not overly so. I wanted to be just another customer. I'm hoping that he would not spot the purple glow, so I pressed the red button on my belt, and the glow disappeared. I felt somewhat relieved, but did wonder if I might be struck by a passing truck or lightening, even. I deemed that I am safe.

  I paid for my newspapers and strolled out of the store. I gazed at the papers and saw that the date is Tuesday, the twenty-fifth of June 2040. Indeed, I had traveled three days into the future.

  I hurried to the florists shop and bought Maria a bouquet of red roses, asking to the girl to write on the card 'I Love You', and date the card. The florist thought this odd, but I just smiled. I paid her by debit card, then left the store.

  I strolled back to Betsy (Pegasus), my time machine, which now looked like a normal motor vehicle. I almost did not recognise my own car, for what Bill had not told me, is that he had programmed the doctor's time machine, using the doctor's own directions, to disguise itself to fit in with its environment. Only the vehicle's colour gave it away. The shade is dark claret, a colour I did not like. I entered the car and sat for a while, reading the paper's headlines. I am jubilant, yet concerned that I should not forget anything, lest I hit a wrong switch and end up somewhere that I did not plan.

  I sat in the vehicle and checked out the systems. They all seemed to be functioning as they should. I wondered if I should override the automatic system and return immediately. In for a penny, in for a pound, I thought. I switched the machine on and activated the switches.

   Whoosh, I am back in the lab, and there before me stood Maria, Peter, and Bill.

        "But you have only this moment disappeared, Antony," said Maria.

  Their surprise is understandable, I guess; but in reality, I had been gone for three quarters of an hour. I stepped out of the time machine, carrying the roses and newspapers. I handed the roses to Maria, and she returned my gift with a soft, loving, kiss. I then handed Bill and Peter a copy each of the newspapers. I smiled, and set my gaze toward Peter.

        "It is not raining, Peter. Tuesday will be very warm and a clear sky, too," I said, wondering if he might decide to ask for a journey in the time machine.

        "I am delighted to hear that, Anton. Did you feel any odd effects while you were being transported?" He began perusing the newspaper. It is as if I had nipped out to the corner shop than just made an historic journey.

        "No, not a thing. One moment I'm at home, the next moment I am in the village. In the blink of an eye, I am gone, and likewise, for my return,"

  Bill stepped forward, took my hand in his, and shook it vigorously, sporting a grin as wide as Blackpool beach.

         "Antony. I am so proud of your magnificent achievement. Your bravery, in the face of uncertainty is astounding. Welcome back, my friend. You have, indeed, made history. What we have to do now is to go into the village and see a lawyer. We mush get him to witness this newspaper, seal it in a tube, and have the newspaper deposited in the safe deposit box in the bank," he exclaimed.

        "I think that before we deposit the paper, Bill, we ought to have the paper sent by registered mail. That would make the dates from the post office official," said Peter.

        "That is a darned good idea, Peter. Good thinking on your part, old man," replied Bill.

                                                                            **********

  The rain had at last ceased, so we made our trip into the village and managed, after some incredible persuasion, on Peter's part, to get an immediate audience with Mr. Hoffman, the local lawyer.

  I could see that Mr. Hoffman is not particularly impressed with our story, but I sensed that he is playing along, if only to humour us. The thought of his bill, no doubt, might have affected his treatment of the four adults that sat before him. I wondered if Mr. Hoffman felt that he is being the butt of some sort of practical joke. Nonetheless, Mr. Hoffman did as we requested and we had his signature and witness to the paper, then we had him seal the paper in a cardboard tube.

  We left Mr. Hoffman's office then headed into Shrewsbury, the principle town of Shropshire. We took the tube, containing the noted newspaper to the main post office and had it sent recorded delivery for the next morning, to my bank in Telford Town Centre, with a note to the manager to the effect that I wanted the tube inserted in my safe deposit box, and that he is to witness the date of the deposit. This done, and another cardboard roll being purchased, we collectively, decided to make a detour, and made a visit to the offices of the Shropshire Star in Chronicle House, Castle Foregate.

  We entered the offices and told the receptionist that we were there to see the principle editor, stating that we had an important document to deliver by hand.

   As luck is on our side, the man we were to see made his exit from the lift. The receptionist called him over, and we gave him the tube, containing the Tuesday's newspaper, and explained that he might take a close look at the contents of the tube and of the date on the contents.

  The principal editor thanked us for our time, and then left the building with our tube in his hand. We are delighted with our morning's work and took ourselves to Mrs. Miggins pie, beer and wine emporium for a roister we were never to forget.

  Maria drove back to the house; on the way, dropping the, inebriated, Peter and Bill off at Peter's home, where Bill is staying. Maria and I spoke excitedly, on the way home, of the adventure we had just experienced. She is energised very much at the thought that she might be able to see her father alive once more. We made clandestine plans for her to trip to see her deceased parent, and me to see King Harold.