The Decameron 2.0

Day 7.2 Humor - A DEADBEAT'S GUIDE TO TIME TRAVEL masheena

She raised a pierced eyebrow at his name. "Paul Scranton? You're the dude who invented time travel! You can find anybody on the Internet. If you invented time travel, shouldn't you know that already?" She shook her head in disbelief. "Alright, let's get going."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Paul was vaguely aware that Elise was making him buy her drinks as payment for finding Danielle, but it was hard to care when he knew his daughter was about to get out of piano practice just a block away.

"You really found out where she takes piano lessons just by typing in a few things on Google?" he asked, amazed.

"The Internet is a crazy thing," she said, balancing her chin on the rim of her glass of beer. The bar was nearly empty since it was the middle of the day, but there were a few overweight, grizzled men sitting at the bar. He and Elise had chosen a seat with more privacy, draped in shadows near an unoccupied pool table. "You sure you don't want a drink? I mean, I can already smell the alcohol on you. It's practically coming off in waves, so there's not much you can do to hide it if you were thinking of impressing this long-lost daughter of yours with sobriety. Might as well keep the buzz going."

He shrugged, then pulled her mug of beer from under her chin and drank it himself, ignoring her protestations.

When the glass was empty and he licked his lips, grinning at her mortified expression, he called over the bartender to order another.

Shortly after, Elise was going on a rant about the rich men who controlled time travel. "Seriously, it's not like any of us can afford it to go back and do something good! I mean, you could, but you're a bit washed up, I think. If people have been time traveling for the past ten years, why hasn't anyone changed something? Why has no one killed Hitler?" She tossed her arms in the air in disbelief.

Paul chuckled a little, finding a sense of humor even though his nerves tingled at the idea of reuniting with his daughter. "I wasn't meant to kill Hitler, if that's what you're suggesting."

"But if everybody thinks that, then of course no one will do it! Come on, give me your Rapizon. I'll go full assassin on his ass, right now!" Elise was so excited, she punched forward and sent the beer glass flying. It landed right in Paul's hands, and they both cheered at his unexpectedly good reflexes.

"That was a complete fluke, I swear," Paul said, laughing. He looked down at his watch. "She's getting out of her lesson now. You want to wait here? I should be back soon, I hope."

Elise nodded, her eyes wandering over to the pool table. She would be able to entertain herself while he was gone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Paul's hands were sweating dreadfully, and it didn't help that the sun was still brutally bright. All he had to do was stand in place a few doors down from the music studio. A bell tinkled. A girl laughed. Gulping, Paul turned and saw his daughter, fourteen-years-old again.

Danielle stopped. The sun highlighted her frizzy brown hair which was never quite tame. She frowned and stared at him, probably wondering what this weird man was doing outside her studio and whether she should walk past him as fast as she could.

Twiddling his thumbs together, Paul watched as realization dawned on Danielle's face. Her mouth fell open in a small 'O' shape, her eyebrows rose to disappear in her chestnut-colored bangs, and she placed a hand on one hip.

"Dad?" she inquired. "What happened to you? You look..."

"Old?" he asked with a chuckle. She didn't say anything right away, so he continued. "I am your father from twenty years in the future. In the present, right now on August 11th, 2003, I was probably slaving away on the Rapizon 2000. Version 3000 is much better, worked out some kinks with the location parameters, but..." He trailed off when he realized she'd stopped paying attention. She looked off into the distance with glazed-over eyes, as though she were accustomed to hearing her father drone on and on about time travel and little else. Paul's shoulders slumped and his head fell to his chest. "Danielle, I...I came back in time to tell you that I am sorry."

"Sorry for what?" Her voice was stiff. At fourteen, she already knew he was a disgrace.

"Where to start? I'm sorry for sending your cats to ancient China. I'm sorry for missing your ninth birthday because I got in a bar fight in Soviet Russia. I'm sorry I told your mom not to show me any videos of your performances because I was too busy. I'm sorry I went back in time so I could beat you at that video game. I'm sorry I was a terrible father. It started out as trying to provide for you and your mother, trying to succeed. But I just failed. My past self can't understand this now, which is why I came back here to tell you this. I am sorry, Danielle."

She paused, biting her lip for a moment and thinking of a reply. As much as she always pretended to not listen when her father droned on about time travel, she knew enough about it that for her father to take a day off work must have meant it was pretty important.

"You're right, you haven't been the best dad," she said slowly. "But thank you for coming back and telling. I'll remember."

Somehow, he believed her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Twenty years in the future, Paul sat at his desk in his workroom, staring at his intertwined hands. The fluorescent light stuttered above him. The same brick wall stared at him, the same books sat on dusty shelves...but there was a knock on the door.

Paul froze for a moment. He'd just returned from his jaunt into 2003 and was busy recovering his senses. The photo album with Danielle's pictures still lie open in front of him.

Did anything change at all?

The wooden chair squeaked on the floor as he pushed it back. Paul walked to the door, heart pounding in trepidation. When he pushed it open, two people waved at him. One was a woman with frizzy brown hair, and the other with a hula hoop in hand.

"You remembered," Paul said, feeling the first smile in years spread on his face as he looked at Danielle and Elise.