Goldie's POV
I felt like I was just staring endlessly into the sun. My retinas were burning, and my vision was spotting with black and dark green dots. In the instant that the intense light had disappeared, I brought my hands up to my eyes and tried to rub them back to normal.
My first thought was that our parents were going to kill us if we took out the electricity from the entire neighborhood again. The machine wasn't connected to anything though, unless there was some sort of wireless electrical connection to the main power source in the house but the machine looks too old to have that feature.
"Goldie, where are we?" Red asked with a shaky, boating voice.
I stopped rubbing my eyes and I opened them. I blinked hard a few times and my sight slowly restored. I looked around and did not see our dusty old attic. I saw a small room, with a dirty green couch, an off white carpet, and behind me was a tiny kitchen. It looked like an apartment, with the smell of cigarette smoke slowly choking me.
"Goldie?" Red said again.
I shushed him. I didn't want to, but I had to. We were in someone's home. We probably weren't alone.
"One second," I whispered and carefully walked to a door off to the side that was opened ajar. I peered in, and I covered my mouth by what I saw. A man. A big man. He was sleeping peacefully in his bedroom.
I very quietly tiptoed back to my siblings. I was terrified that I would accidentally make the floors creak, which would force the guy to come out and investigate. I squatted down beside my siblings and whispered, "there's someone else here. We need to leave right now."
Red was going to speak, but he immediately closed his mouth to remain quiet. My protective big-brother instincts kicked in, and I looked around the room for a way out. I didn't see the door, but I saw a large window with a thin, beige cloth drape trying fruitlessly to keep the Oklahoma sun out, but it wasn't doing a very good job. I walked carefully to the window, and it slid open with ease. There was a fire escape. I looked back and saw the man roll over to the other side in his sleep, and I exhaled slowly.
"Come on," I whispered.
Red and Candy walked over to the window while I carefully stood on the fire escape, hopeful that the metal wouldn't clatter together. I reached in and pulled little Red out, then I helped Candy through the window quietly.
With Red being our leader, we followed him down the fire escape, and I kept looking back to make sure the guy stayed asleep and didn't come out looking for us. We finally got to the road and we kept running until the apartment building was completely out of sight.
"What on earth happened?" Candy shouted while pointing back down the street. She caught her breath and asked, "where are we?"
"I-I-I don't know. I don't know," I stammered. I nervously rubbed the back of my neck, because I had no answer as to how we blinked and were suddenly sitting in the middle of a stranger's apartment. "I don't have the foggiest clue what's going on here."
"You don't think that's..." Candy started.
"No," I interrupted. I knew what she was going to say, and I refused to accept it. "No. There has got to be some sort of explaination. Like, I could be in a coma. Yeah, that would make sense. I fell off the ladder and I'm being rushed to the hospital right now."
"That's a good theory, Sherlock, but why am I and Red having the same comatose dream?" Candy asked with a spit of attitude.
"I don't know," I sighed. "Maybe we are just lost."
"How did we get lost if we were just in our attic?"
"I don't know," I snapped. "This is no time to kirk out. Let's just ask for help."
"People will throw us in an asylum. Absolutely not."
"We will just ask where we are. Okay? No big deal," I reassured that I wasn't going to be an idiot about this, just in case we did just so happen to go back in time.
But time travel isn't real... right?
As I glanced around the road we were standing in the middle of, I could feel that I have been here before. I could visualize the houses that I know are on this street, because I drive past them everyday. In place of one of the homes was a dog park. Even the road looked the same. A road I've travelled on before.
Other than the dog park, it was pretty empty with farmland and old farm houses way off the road. I bet word would get around of three kids asking bizarre yet common knowledge questions if we stopped at any one of these doors, so the three of us collectively agreed that we needed to go into town.
Our walk was mostly in silence, as all of us were trying to come up with some sort of solution as to what had happened in that attic. Another possible theory was that we broke a pipe and were exposed to poisonous gas, which we are now slowly dying of. I cannot think of another, more logical, explanation.
The moment we stepped into the downtown area, we knew we were transported to a completely different world. The city was healthy and vibrant. Signs that extended from different businesses had their names on them in big letters, and some were illuminated by bright neon lights. Posters supporting the upcoming mayor election from Tulsa were stapled on telephone poles and placed all around the city. We saw really old cars driving along the road coming from every which way and parked along the busy street.
We saw signs for businesses I had never even heard of. The Motor Inn, National Bank, and even the JB Bar and Buffet were all new to me. However, I recognized the buildings. From what I remember, they were all old and extremely worn down. Some have been demolished for newer buildings.
Suddenly, Red stopped walking and he bent down to the ground.
"What are you doing? That's gross," Candy stated with a sneer.
Red stood back up and lifted up a shiny coin he found on the ground. "Goldie, what's this?"
I glanced at it and recognized it from my history books. "That's a quarter."
"What's a quarter?" Red asked.
"It's mustard," I told him. "It's a quarter of a dollar."
"Oh," Red said and slipped the quarter into his pocket. He stopped again and exclaimed, "I found another!"
"Congratulations," I responded with a deadpan voice.
"Let's go in there." Candy pointed over to a little building with big windows on a nearby street corner. The signs said they sold coffee, sandwiches, sodas, and ice cream. Through the window I could see people sitting in booths, sipping on coffee and eating pancakes. It had the name Rusty's on it.
"I'm hungry," Red grumbled.
"Mom was making us some lunch," Candy mentioned, which reminded me of how hungry I was getting too.
Red and I followed closely behind Candy as she guided us into the café. Inside were some families having lunch with their kids in the booths, some single diners were sitting at the breakfast bar where an older guy was refilling their coffee and taking their lunch order. There was a jukebox toward the back of the café that was glowing orange and yellow, playing music that I barely recognized.
"Welcome in, kids," the man said. He wore a little hat on top of his graying head and a cream colored button up shirt. "Y'all are just in time. The breakfast rush hasn't arrived yet."
"No, we ain't here to eat," Candy spoke up. "We are a little lost."
The man squinted at my sister and his lip curled a little with an expression of uncertainty. He asked, "weren't you here yesterday?"
Candy shook her head. "No, sir."
"Huh," he grunted. It didn't sound like he really believed her. "Well, I've got a phone in the back but it's for paying customers."
The three of us looked at each other and suddenly Red's eyes lit up. He dug into his pocket and pulled out the two quarters he grabbed off the street.
"What can we get for fifty cents?" I asked.
He gestured to the menu behind him and said, "knock yourself out."
The three of us stepped up to the counter and gazed at the menu. Waffles were only fifteen cents, so we could get three of those and have five cents left over.
"Can we get three waffles, please?" I asked.
"Fifty-one cents," the guy demanded.
I paused for a second. "I thought it was fifteen cents each."
"With tax," he stated.
"Oh," I said softly. I forgot that sales tax used to be a thing. Red placed the quarters on the counter and I said, "take off one of the waffles."
"All right," the man said as he took the money. He called out our order to the kitchen, calling them checkerboards, and then he handed me my change.
"Can we use the phone?" Candy asked.
The man nodded his head toward the back where I saw a sign that said phone, and another that said restrooms.
"Don't move," I told Red and Candy. I followed the sign to the back and I found a massive phone mounted to the wall. It wasn't until I saw the brick of a phone book sitting on top of the box that contained the phone. I flipped through it, seeing hundreds of rice-paper thin pages with random combinations of numbers with names and addresses attached. This was such a waste of paper. In 2038, if you wanted to call someone you would say, "call", then their name. It is so easy and efficient. No wonder why we almost lost all the trees and switched to paperless a decade ago; because people heavily abused it.
I closed the phone book to put it back, and I just so happened to glance at the cover which revealed the date to be 1965.
1965?!
My breathing got faster and faster the more I thought about it. I rubbed my temples to try to pull myself together. There is no way this is real.
Don't kirk out, don't kirk out, don't panic...
If this was a prank, it was executed perfectly.
First, I decided to call Dad. If this was a prank, he would definitely be behind this. He has always been one to love practical jokes. He just has a jokers personality, always having fun and never taking life too seriously. He's like a kid at heart.
I'm embarrassed to admit that it took a few solid minutes along with a vast variety of trial and error to figure out how to use the rotary dial on the phone. But once I figured it out, I was unstoppable.
"I'm sorry, this number does not exist," the robotic woman kept repeating which only annoyed me. I guess that's one way to stop me.
The only other number I could think to call was Mom. Those were the only phone numbers I've memorized. This would be so much easier if Mom hadn't taken away our phones before we got grounded. It rang a couple times, and my stomach just about dropped to the floor. Dad's phone didn't even ring.
Finally it stopped ringing, and I heard a small, "hello?"
"Mom?" I nearly shouted, I recognized her voice. I was mentally thanking the universe that she answered. If she didn't, I wouldn't know what to do. "Where are you? We are kirking out here."
"I think you have the wrong number," she said in a whisper.
"Is this 918-555-9492?" I asked with my eyebrows scrunched together.
"Yes. How did you get this number? You should not be calling this number."
She sounded so much like Mom, but maybe I wanted it to be Mom so bad I let myself believe it was her.
"Are you gassing me?" I asked.
"What?" The girl asked. She sounded genuinely confused, I realized it probably wasn't Mom.
"I'm sorry, miss. Have a good day," I said and hung up defeatedly.
When I walked back out to the café, Red and Candy were sitting at a booth with their waffles in front of them. Red was pouring basically all the syrup in the bottle that was on the table and speared it around with his fork to make a soggy mess.
"Did Mom pick up?" Candy asked as she took a bite of her delicious golden waffle.
I sighed softly. "No. Dad didn't either."
"Weird," she said.
"I feel like a total fry. The phone book said it was 1965," I told them.
"We are definitely in Tulsa," Candy said. She nodded to someone sitting at the breakfast bar behind me, and I saw the newspaper say Tulsa World on the top before the big headline for the day. The date said Friday April 2, 1965.
"Not possible." I shook my head as I put my elbows up on the table. "It can't be."
"Pinch me," Candy said, and I reached over to oblige.
"Ow! What's your damage?"
"You asked," I mumbled sarcastically.
"Not literally," she hissed. I knew that, I just wanted to pinch her.
"We need to figure this out," I said. I stole Red's fork and took a bite of the waffle because my stomach was rumbling. "And you told me to, you Abercrombie."
"Sit on it, you goop!" Candy hollered.
"I want Mom," Red boated.
"I know, me too," Candy said.
"Where's the Machine?" I asked, suddenly remembering that the last time I saw it was in the living room of that random apartment we transported to.
"Oh my god," Candy said, causing all our bickering to come to a halt. "We left it in that guy's apartment."
"Shit. Nice going," I snapped.
Candy let out an appalling gasp. "Excuse me? How is this my fault?"
"You were the one holding it, weren't you?" I asked.
"We were all holding it, bird brain. We have to run back and get it before the guy wakes up, and it would be easier if we post-pone our fight until morning."
Candy and Red chowed down on the rest of their waffles and we sprinted out of the café. We all ran as fast as we could to the apartment building, and we all stood on the grass looking up at the window that we had climbed out of while discussing the game plan of how we were going to get that weird Machine out of that apartment quickly and quietly.
Candy and I climbed up the fire escape, while Red stayed on the ground to keep watch. We finally reached up to the man's apartment, and peered in. The Machine was still in the living room, but the open bedroom door revealed that the man was no longer in the bed.
I held my breath as I slipped through the open window, and I made sure to not thump when I landed. I looked around, seeing if the guy was in the living room, and he was not. I ran to the Machine and finally exhaled when it was in my hands.
Perhaps I exhaled too soon, because I heard heavy footsteps make its way to the living room. A large shadow against the wall displayed a big guy, and the heavy footsteps told me that he wasn't friendly.
I quickly locked eyes with Candy through the open window and she had a terrified expression on her face. I practically chucked the Machine at her, which she caught with ease against her chest. I dove behind a puffy recliner and peered to the side of it. I saw the man enter the living room with a bowl of cereal in his massive hand. He wore a white shirt underneath his overalls and a pair of large brown boots with a little green tag coming out the back. Dad has a pair of those too, but I can't remember the brand. He looked like he recently shaved his head, and the dark hair was growing back a little.
He slowly walked over to the recliner that I was hiding behind and I stayed perfectly still. He sat in the chair and turned on the TV. I took a quiet, yet deep breath and stayed pressed to the back of the recliner. My heart was pounding in my ears. If he finds me, I'm a dead man.
"Oh, shit," the man stated. I heard him stand up from the recliner, and he set his cereal bowl on the ground. He walked into the kitchen, and I stayed still until he was completely out of sight.
This was my chance. I sprang up to my feet and dove through the window and onto the fire escape. I literally hit my face against the metal bars but I didn't let that stop me. I ran as fast as I could down the stairs to meet with Red and Candy who were waiting for me. Candy nudged Red with her elbow and they started sprinting, and all of us ran until we couldn't see the apartment building anymore.
"Where should we put it?" Candy asked once the building was no longer in view and we slowed our run to an exhausting walk.
"We can't put it out in the open, now can we?" I said like an Abercrombie. I rubbed my throbbing cheek and spit some blood that collected in my mouth out into the grass. The face plant into the metal bars made my teeth sink into my lip. "We should bury it... or something."
"Where?" She asked.
"There's got to be an empty dirt lot around here somewhere," I stated. "Let's just walk. I can carry that."
Candy stopped walking abruptly and asked, "what happened to your face?"
I touched my eyebrow that was currently throbbing and felt heat press against my finger tips. My cheek was still tender, and the blood from my lip kept sinking through my teeth. I sighed softly and finally admitted, "I ran into the metal of that fire escape."
Candy laughed and asked, "like, face first?"
"Yeah, it kinda hurts," I told her.
"It looks like you were punched in the face."
"Thank you for that," I replied sarcastically. "Just give me the Machine, I want to get rid of this thing as soon as possible."
Candy handed me the Machine and we began our seemingly endless walk. We walked in the opposite direction that town was, since we knew that it got more suburban the closer we got. More and more farmland came into view, until finally we reached a big dirt clearing.
Like animals, we worked together and used our hands to create a deep enough hole to put the Machine in it and bury it. It took forever, but I felt a great sense of relief when we were finished.
I inspected the dirt that caked under my fingernails and tried to pick it out so I wouldn't feel the built up pressure under my nail beds.
Candy stated, "people are upset that we ain't in school."
"They are?" I asked.
"Some people cursed at us at the café," she said.
"Maybe we need to go to school," I suggested.
"I really, really, really don't want to," she said.
"It won't be forever," I promised. It was June when we left our year of 2038. I am so close to graduating, I'd hate to go back to school. "But it might give us some answers."
Candy reluctantly agreed, and so did Red. Our next walking destination was Will Rogers High School, since in 1965 students have to physically go to school.
When we got near the school, we saw a lot of students holding their school books and talking and giggling amongst themselves. They all looked so old fashioned, I could barely believe my eyes. Most of the guys wore nice slacks but all the girls wore skirts. I still wanted to think that this was all a big set up and soon I'll be laughing about it and how stupid it was that I thought it was all real. Because time travel doesn't exist... does it?
A sharp bell rang throughout the school and all the students began scampering back into the building. I looked back at my siblings and exhaled slowly. I glanced up at the front of the building as I stood on the stairs that led to the door.
Schools like this are not common anymore. From what I can remember, this historical building has become a museum for the city instead of a public school. In 2038, every kid learns electronically, and they graduate at their own pace. From my family's stories, everyone in public schools are taught at the pace the teacher had. That doesn't seem fair.
I was born during a global pandemic that took millions of innocent lives. This resulted in public schools shutting down. They opened back up again for a few years, but testing showed that students were learning better online so it created a trend that they wouldn't open back up again. I never got a traditional learning experience or be in a conventional classroom after the fifth grade. Dad actually did not like the idea of online learning. He argued that we wouldn't get the social experiences we needed to grow, so Mom and Dad had us join different extracurricular activities. I joined the local football team, Candy does track and dance, and Red joined the Mathletes.
"Hey, you!" A teacher walked briskly toward us and he snapped his fingers. He wore a thick grey fabric suit with a red tie that showed off his round belly. "Get to class!"
"Sir, we aren't students," I stated.
"Yeah, yeah, like I've never heard that one before," he snapped. "Where are you supposed to be, young man?"
"I don't have a schedule, sir," I told him honestly.
His eyebrows came together and he asked, "are you one of the Curtis boys?"
I shook my head. "No, sir."
That was a lie. But I'm obviously not a Curtis that he's thinking of. I'm probably not even related to any of them that are here. My mom's family didn't move here until the early 2010s and I think my Dad's parents grew up here but that probably wasn't until the 1980s, or the 70s at the earliest. I have no idea where his grandparents lived.
"What's your name, son?"
"Goldie. It's my first day."
"Head over to the office and they'll get you squared away there," he said in a calmer tone.
"Yes, sir," I said.
I made sure that Candy and Red were in my line of vision as we walked quickly into the main hall of the school. The teacher followed us until he was distracted by going after another student like an angry bull.
"Candy, please stay with Red," I said.
"What should we do?" She asked.
"Just slip into a random classroom until I can figure this out."
"What's a classroom?" Red asked.
Red has never been to a public classroom. I stopped going after fifth grade, while Candy stopped in the second grade. That's when they started closing all public schools down, just a couple of years before he was supposed to start kindergarten.
"It's a room with students and teachers. Teachers teach and students learn. Go, before we get in trouble again."
I slipped into a nearby room and Red and Candy went into one across the hall. The classroom was pretty bare, kids were still coming in. I grabbed a seat in the very back and tried to sink back and blend in as much as possible.
I looked around and saw that I was in an English class. There was some vocabulary words on a green board in the front that covered most of the wall. What's that called again? I know my folks have told me before...
It was a pretty boring classroom. It had wooden desks, some educational posters on the walls, and the green board with white chalk writing. I stopped going to public school when I was in elementary school, and those classrooms had colorful and fun posters on the walls. High school is boring.
The teacher came in, carrying a binder and her thin whispy hair was up in a hairstyle that was trying to touch the sky. She could do a back flip and have it not fall out, there was so much hairspray in it. I could smell it from the back of the room.
One of the last people to walk in was a girl. But not just any girl, it was someone I knew I recognized. I couldn't quite put my finger on it. Maybe she looks like an actress from an old movie that my parents like to watch? I was so shaken up by the events of the day I could barely focus.
She wore a maroon sweatshirt and dark pants. She was the only girl in school who wasn't wearing a dress or a skirt. Her thick hair was a lot like mine, although hers was long and loosely curly.
"Well, welcome to Tulsa," the teacher said loudly to the girl after they conversed for a couple of seconds. She seemed enthusiastic, which was nice.
The young girl looked a little nervous, like she was trying to sneak candy into a movie theater without getting caught, back when movie theaters existed. She walked to the back of the class, and I could see most of the boys staring at her, then they'd turn to their friends and make a ogling face or a carnal gesture. I felt disgusted for her. She is a human being. Treat her like one.
The bell finally rang, and the teacher said, "class, we have a new student with us today. Her name is Brianna. Stand up, Brianna."
That's when my jaw dropped.
It was my mother.
I felt like a fry who belonged in an asylum.
My mother stood up and more guys whispered inappropriate comments around me. Luckily, I did not think she could hear them. All I wanted to do was scream, "that's my mother, you fucking pig!"
"Everyone, say hello to Brianna Jones."
"Hello, Brianna Jones," the whole class said in unison, as if they practiced.
Mom sat back down with a simple smile and she tucked some of her hair behind her ear uncomfortably. She rested her elbows on her desk and twirled her pencil around her fingers.
I kept staring at my mom, not knowing how to react so I wouldn't draw any attention to myself. I couldn't stop looking at her. Her smile was radiant, bright enough to be seen from space. My mother is still beautiful, but seeing her young felt like I was seeing a whole new person. Yet, she looks exactly the same.
"Hey, we got ourselves a drooler," one of the guys next to me snickered.
"I guess I'm not the only one who wants to hit that," another whispered.
Knowing they were talking about me, I closed my mouth and the boys started chuckling. I felt a chill of cringe wave through my body. That's my mother.
The teacher stopped talking, and she was looking right at us. "Can I help you gentlemen?"
"Oh, no, Ms. Valentine," one of the guys said.
"Good. I don't want no trouble from you boys this semester."
"You can count on it," the other said, chomping hard on his gum.
I looked over and everyone's eyes were on us. Even Mom's, but she was looking at me with no special expression, or any sort of realization on her face. She didn't recognize me and she had no idea who I was. I am nothing to her. I quickly hid my face by blocking it with my hand, and Ms. Valentine kept teaching.
The bell finally rang again, and I squeezed my way out of the room as fast as I could, hoping that Mom didn't see me. Even if she did, it wouldn't matter. I haven't even been born yet.
I found Candy and Red in the hall and they told me that they found themselves in a history class with Uncle Ponyboy.
"You will never believe who I saw," I shuttered.
"Who?" Red asked.
I pointed to the classroom I just came out of, and Mom was just walking out. She was holding a book against her chest, glancing up to gaze at the room numbers above the doors. "Her."
The school book she was holding was for English, I assumed that Ms. Valentine probably just gave it to her. She strolled down the hallway, stealing glances from Uncle Ponyboy from across the hall. Mom walked past us, and when she tossed her hair everyone got perfectly still.
"Who's that new girl?" We heard some guy whisper to his friend.
"I don't know, but I hope she's in my next class," one other guy answered.
I scrunched my face in annoyance. Guys are disgusting no matter the decade. I just hoped that she wasn't hearing these comments, or paying attention to them.
"Grease or Soc?" Someone asked.
"If she's Soc, I'd definitely bag her."
"I'd bag her even if she's a grease. What a betty."
"My knees are weak."
"I thought I saw her hanging with that Sodapop guy," another said.
"We ain't got a chance if she's already been hangin' around that bum," one guy cackled.
"Ain't he still going with that chick Sandy?" Someone asked.
A girl walking by said dreamily, "I don't care if Sodapop Curtis is a Grease, he's a hunk and a half. I wish I could ride with him."
"He's the cat's meow."
"He's the James Dean of the '60's," another girl added with her mind in la-la-land.
I heard someone else say, "I went to his store the other night and he winked at me."
"He works at a gas station," one guy said with an eye roll, obviously annoyed by all the girls in school who were drooling over his classmate.
"Whatever. He's a dream."
A man's voice overshadowed the little conversations I was listening to. I think he was probably a teacher or some sort of supervisor, snd he stood off to the side and he scolded students who weren't walking on the right side of the hallway. What a stupid rule, who cares?
"Isn't that Dad?" Candy asked. "I mean, who else is named Sodapop?"
"That girl over there is Mom," I whispered, side-eying Mom while she walked through the sea of students.
"That was Mom?!" Red asked,
"There's no doubt in my mind that was Mom," I said.
"But if she was born in 2000, what is she doing in 1965?" Candy asked.
"What about Dad? Apparently he's here too." I rubbed the back of my neck. "Unless there's someone else with that weird of a name."
"We would have to see him to make sure," Candy shuddered. "Did you look at Mom?"
"Yeah, clear as day. It's her."
"This is really freaky," Red stated.
I think this is when it really started settling into all of us that we really weren't in 2038 anymore. We can't even click our ruby slippers three times and say that there is no place like home. We are stuck here.
There was a teacher who was strolling by with thick brown glasses and a red bow tie around his neck. He glanced at me and then I overheard him say to another teacher, "these kids today are impossible. Those ducktail haircuts make it impossible for them to stay groomed. Next thing you know, the boys will be wearing their hair as long as the girls."
I frowned and ran my fingers through my hair. I couldn't tell if he was talking about me or some of the other guys at this school, but I didn't think my hair was too long.
All of us mutually agreed that we needed to leave the school, which wasn't too hard to do during the passing period. We just ran out of the building, jumped down the stairs, and bolted until the school was out of sight.