The Wall

Once upon a time there was a perfect wall. And if the wall moves and then he would run to the door and flip over the steps. If he sees the rabbit that means he trembly after after. The end.

Coop

D B Cooper sipped at his tea and let his eyes roam across the sun
dappled landscape. He stood and stretched languidly in the pool of
warmth radiating from the window, opening his arms to the heat, before
collapsing back into his own compact and slightly crumpled form.

He closed his eyes. Even now, 40 years later, he could feel the thrill
in his bones, the tingle somewhere between death and ecstasy as he had
stepped out into the open. He chuckled, measuring the weight he
carried now, the weight of nearly 70 years and so many thousand miles,
comparing it to the parachute and the backpack he had born all those
years ago. He had not grown fat on the proceeds, but, nothing in his
escape had helped him resist the arthritis that had slowed his father,
and his before him. It was not so bad, but he felt it and yes, it made
him doubt.

He wondered what others did--other aging men who had not hijacked
airplanes and escaped with bundles of cash. Perhaps like his father,
they carried their secrets lower, like lead in their shoes that kept
them grounded, or around their waists, where a barely remembered past
might at least keep one warm. Coop's rested squarely on his shoulders,
nudged occasionally by a shrug, or gritted teeth made to look like a
smile.

The plane outside his window was not so different from the one he had
left in mid-flight. But it was no commercial airliner. It flew hither
and yon at an hour's notice, wherever it's owner directed. The hangar
was staffed at all hours. Coop had spoken with the chief steward on
more than one occasion. Even got a peek inside once. Mostly he just
looked through the window at that hangar, though, and considered how
things changed. He had once imagined that would be him, if he played
his cards right. He hadn't flown much as it turned out, more out of
happenstance than anything else. To Mexico City of course, not long
after. To Chicago, when his daughter got married. He chuckled
soundlessly. The federal government had given up the cash with less
fight than his ex-wife. He hadn't flown first class.

The air conditioner started to rattle, as it had been lately.
Bearings, he thought. He tapped the box below the window, and the
noise settled back into it's hum. Maybe just stretching for a second
like Coop himself. Florida demanded that constant battle between
beautiful, brutal sun,and cooling but clammy compression from these
damn boxes. Like everything else, Coop felt the heat and the cold more
acutely than ever.

He set his tea down. He tore the label from the bottle and tossed the
paper scraps in the trash. He ran enough water to rinse it and threw
it in the can marked recyclables. The lunch bag he zipped up still
held two cookies, for his break later. Coop glanced up at the bulletin
board, and the photo tacked there. It was scratchy and gray, eerily
reminiscent of a wanted poster. But it bore no resemblance to anyone
that mattered. It had been printed for his birthday, four months ago.
It suggested that a poor old man like Coop might wander off,and, if
found, could be returned to the address of a local bar.

He'd kept the name as a joke, mostly. Of course he was Brian now, but
everyone called him Coop. In 1971, he could have picked any name. He
shuddered to think how he would have done it now. And he did think
about it. When his shift ran long. When his back hurt most. When he
wasn't sure he could look one more Monday in the face.

"You ready Coop?" The head peering around the door frame was
blonde,bespectacled, and about 45.

One more stretch. "Ready as I'll be. Afternoon crowd look like a
bunch of mad bombers?"

She brought the rest of her body into the center of the doorway.
"They just came from Disney World. The parents look broke and the kids
look nasty."

"That settles it then," he said. "Let's catch the next one leaving for
God knows where." He held up his bag. "I have an extra cookie."

She paused to think. "Tempting. Can I get back to you?"

Coop gave a little shrug. "Sure, but no promises. I'm a wanted man. I
can't hang around forever."

She smiled broadly. "I'm sure you'd be quite a catch," she said, and
disappeared around the corner.

He followed her out and back to his station. A few hellos along the
way (Coop from the older ones, Mr. Cooper from the younger. One Brian
from the girl at the deli. He slipped on to his stool and caught the
eye of the next man in line.

"Good morning, sir. Can I see your boarding pass?"

TOTAL

     I bit my lip and chanced another glance in the woman's direction. She was no doubt in her mid-to-late forties, and was wearing brown loafers, black slacks, and a lime green sweater set. She had short, brown "mom" hair, and a teenage boy (her son, I assumed) was standing behind her. The reason I kept looking at her was because she had spent five whole minutes in the register lane, looking the impulse buys up and down, giving them far more attention than they merited. I hate it when customers do this, it makes it impossible to accomplish anything except for standing at the counter and waiting for the loiterer to choose which kind of M&Ms (on sale for $0.49) she wanted to tear a part like a wolverine as soon as she was away from the prying eyes of other humans. I knew that as soon as I tore a carton of Marlboro Reds open and began to stock, all of her prospective purchases would be placed on the counter and she would be giving me a look that said "Well, I don't have all day!" I sighed, knowing that any attempt to do anything useful in this awkward time would be fruitless. Better to just wait this one out.

     Bum bum bum bum. Bum bum bum bum. Bum bum bum bum.

     I was drumming my fingers and staring idly at a new tooth brush display on the end of aisle three when she slammed her Tide detergent (waaaay overpriced at $6.99) onto the counter, and gave me this look that said "I caught you."I blinked rapidly as she tossed her other items on the counter, from candy to Olay cosmetics to Folgers Coffee ($16.99).

     Then one of those inexplicably awkward moments occurred when two people say something at the same time and only one statement is heard. "Hi there, how are you? Did you find everything all right?" and "Oh my God Jean you look so tan!" fought  each other for attention from the same party. The vibrations from my voice box  and the vocal chords of the redheaded forty something standing behind (apparently) Geena reverberated against oxygen and nitrogen molecules in the air. I could have sworn I felt my feeble salutations bounce back against my cheek, as if accepting defeat. Geena swung around in time to squeal with delight at the appearance of her friend, and once more ignored the front counter, and me. It doesn't really matter, I guess, I just don't know whether she wants to wait for me to scan or whether she cares--

     "She's fine, or at least it seems that way. Maybe a little overexcited. I guess I'll do the talking since she is busy." Her son smiled as he stepped ahead of her to get the whole process started, and with a twinge of embarrassment I realized that he had witnessed my being completely ignored by his mom; my face felt a little hot at the idea that he had seen me looking so foolish. He was wearing khaki cargo shorts with a tan tee shirt, which seemed like some extreme matching. His eyes, which were also brown, might have been a little far a part, but the whole effect was not altogether unpleasant; my overworking mind immediately pegged him as one of those guys who is modest enough that he values his intelligence and humor much more than his appearance.

     "Oh no worries, it happens all the time, I practically talk to myself my entire shift anyway," I laughed, sliding the detergent in front of the scanner with a BLIP!

    He grinned. "I doubt you're missing much," he said as he lifted a twenty four pack of Ice Mountain water bottles (on sale for $3.99) into my scanning range.

     "Probably right," I replied and with another BLIP! I scanned the UPC. "Oh and, before I forget, would you like to try any Reese's candy tonight, three for $2.00?" I posed this in a falsely bright, very sarcastic tone of voice, and he answered in the same way.

     "You know I would love to, but I really shouldn't tempt myself!" He patted his stomach as if he was watching his weight. I can't help but laugh at this image, it reminds me of another customer, from the day before. She answered the same way to this question and literally grabbed her stomach and proceeded to clutch it for over a minute, losing herself in it. It was one of those moments when keeping the laughter inside is next to impossible. As I slide several more items past the scanner, (BLIP! BLIP! BLIP!) I glance at his mom, who is still blathering away to the redheaded woman, completely unaware of this conversation. This doesn't bother me.

    "Everyone says that! And I swear every time they laugh at their little joke like they are so original, but--"

     "All people are pretty much the same."

     He looks at me, and I look at him. I've finished scanning and bagging, now all that is left is to hit TOTAL and this pleasant respite will be over. I don't really want to say goodbye.

    "Well, most of them," I say with a small smile, and his mother turns around to look at us. TOTAL.

Images

It wasn’t her best work, but it would have to do for now. There was always Photoshop for edits, but she knew she would never actually spend the time to work the photos. It wasn’t really her style anyway. While she can appreciate good photo editing, she felt like she was cheating somehow when she worked on her own photos. Besides, the schedule she had laid out in her head while battling insomnia at 2am this morning wouldn’t allow for that.

She packed up her gear, took one last look around and knew she would probably never be back here again.

Driving home, she stopped for a pack of cigarettes and a copy of the Sunday paper. As she started down the highway, the usual dialog began in her head. Am I doing the right thing? How do you balance protecting those you love and looking out for yourself? She wrestled with these questions most of her life and today was no exception.

The sun was beginning to set and there was almost no traffic on the highway. She made better time than she had expected and was a little nervous as she pulled up to the empty office building. It was on the way home and she knew no one would be around to see her hesitate as she was dropping off the package.

She had the Fed Ex envelope ready in the passenger seat. She knew the address by heart and as she started writing, the tears began to flow. No surprise. She pulled out the camera and began quickly scrolling through the pictures one last time. She stopped herself. There was no need to continue, these images would be with her always.

She took the SD card out of the camera, dropped it in the envelope and walked up to the Fed Ex box. She knew he would recognize the handwriting, but would probably be a bit surprised to see the return address as Cincinnati, Ohio.

Once she heard it fall to the bottom, she knew it was over. The images were no longer hers to bear alone.

A Strange Coincidence

Funny how life works. Sonia swore she had just seen someone that looked almost exactly like her. She didn’t have a twin. Clones don’t exist… yet. Whatever; she had probably just imagined it.

She walked up the glittering (but not clean) stairs of the subway station, and descended into the night air. She was just a block away from her small apartment flat and ready for it too. It had been a long day at the theater, where she worked as an accountant, and she couldn’t wait to stretch out on her sofa and read a novel she had picked up at the store the day before.

As she neared her building, she took out her keys and unlocked the first lock. Then the second one. Then the one to get into the building with. And then, finally, the lock to her door.

The apartment was cozy, and it gave her a sense of pride every time she opened it. This was because of all of the work she had put into getting it. The furniture was contemporary, yet functional; much like her life.

She began to read, becoming more and more immersed in the story by the second. Nothing could distract her. Well, at least until a loud crash and a scream came from the apartment next door.

She jumped to her feet, and took action immediately. That’s what made Sonia different from other tenants. In this situation, you would expect most people to cower in fear. A loud noise and a scream in New York City was enough to make a person lock their doors and hide, but Sonia was at the door of her neighbor’s apartment instantly.

She tried the doorknob, deciding knocking wouldn’t be necessary after a scream as loud as the one she’d heard. Not surprisingly, it was locked. She began to rap on the door furiously, because she heard hysterical crying that blared like a siren. Crying is always better than nothing at all, Sonia decided as she hammered on the door. “I want to help you!” She cried through the door. And she did. Nobody deserved to scream that loud and get no help at all.

Luckily, the door opened, and standing behind it was a girl that couldn’t be older than 30. Her face was red, and she looked stressed out beyond belief. “Who...are…you?” she sniffed in a quieter sob.

“I’m just your neighbor, I heard a scream, and, well…”

“Oh.” She whimpered motioning to the room behind her. “Come in.”

Sonia slowly entered the apartment and looked glanced around realizing that her relaxing evening was only a fantasy now.

The apartment was almost identical to her own, but the furnishings were nothing like the ones that surrounded her usually. Her neighbor seemed to be a fan of the periodic table. And beakers. In fact, they seemed to be using a lab table as a dining table.

“My husband is a scientist.” She sputtered, seeming to notice Sonia’s confused glances. The word husband seemed to make her neighbor upset, because she let out a long, high moan, not unlike the call of a whale.

“I’m…I’m Natalie. Natalie Pramsey. Why don’t you have a…a…a” She let out another wale and motioned toward the couch. “A…seat.” Sonia rushed to the couch, Natalie close behind her. They both sat down, and Natalie tried to get a hold of herself.

Sonia cleared her throat, awkwardly, and didn’t really know what to say first. “Let’s start from the beginning. Tell me why you are so upset,”

“I…I mean…My husband is into QP.” Sonia looked at her confusedly. What was QP? Some kind of drug? It sure sounds like it. “It stands for Quantum Physics.” Sonia was way off. “Most of it is just moving particles and such but,” She began to sniff vigorously now, trying so hard to keep off her tears. “He’s really good at QP, and he…he…he built a machine that can transfer a lot of particles at once.” Sonia didn’t really understand what this meant, but she listened intently. “First he went back 5 minutes, and that was such a huge accomplishment, we had so many of his colleagues over at the house. And then after that, he…he…he started going back farther and farther. The farthest he’s gotten is 3 years.”

“I don’t understand, quite what you mean. It sounds like he’s traveling in time, but that doesn’t sound possible.” This made Natalie’s hiccupping and sniffs break almost instantly. She began crying again, letting out a wale here and there.

“It is possible! That’s what he’s gone and done! He got into that machine and…and…I don’t know where he went! I don’t know when he’ll be back! I don’t even know if he will be back! He….wouldn’t… TELL ME!” She began to make that siren noise again, the loudest kind of crying there was. She even seemed to be hyperventilating.

“Calm down, we can figure this out; just…just try to calm down!” Sonia was becoming a little panicked herself. She was expecting a robber or something, not a time machine.  Sonia got Natalie some water and tried to get a normal breathing pattern out of her. They sat back down on the sofa (Natalie had stood up to do her siren cry) and Sonia started to ask simple questions. “Is there any way to see what time the machine went to last? That might make it easier to know where your husband is.”

“Well, it’s not like in the movies. There isn’t a dial that you just turn to your favorite year, and then you’re off, you have to accumulate the number of particles you’re moving, and how far you’re moving them. He’s done that but…I don’t think there’s any way I can track where he went. I don’t really know all that much about QP so-“ She paused, her face was still bright red from her tears, but she wasn’t crying anymore. “I just might…” She walked into another room and left Sonia alone, confused and in a daze from the whole evening.

“I got it!” Natalie yelled from the other room. “Come here!” Sonia walked to the other room and got ready for a huge machine, just like in every science-fiction story ever. It would probably have numbers all over it and be really scientific and mathematical, but it would probably be like a box with a door and- whoa. Sonia was surprised to see the machine was nothing like that at all. It was a simple stage, small but still stage like.  There was a huge light roofing the stage, and Sonia felt taken aback by the whole scene. “I fixed it!”Natalie yelled. “I’m not sure how, but I’ve gotten his location on track! He’s at the subway station… one and a half hours ago. Let’s go!”

Sonia’s eyes widened. “Me?”

“Well of course! You helped me with this whole thing.”

“But…but…I don’t know anything about time travel, let alone QP.”

“Me neither. Let’s go.”

“Oh…Okay.” Sonia stepped onto the stage next to Natalie, and covered her eyes, because she was afraid the light would blind her. When she opened them she was in the subway station a block away.  “How did that-“

“I know,” whispered Natalie. “You couldn’t even feel it could you. Now let’s find my husband.” So they set off, through the subway station, and Sonia could have sworn she’d seen herself again. But this time she knew it really was her, and as she looked at the confused expression on her own face, she had to laugh.

In the end, they found Natalie’s husband, and while there wer still a few issues the two of them had to cope with, their marriage worked out. Sonia also had a few issues to cope with. The next day she quit her job, and became an intern at the Quantum Physics lab that Natalie’s husband worked at. She wanted to know everything she could on the subject. If time travel is real, Sonia wanted to be a part of it.

And it begins!

The Rowen family writing blog begins today! Here are the rules: Each Rowen must post at least one piece of writing each month. There are 6 Rowens so this will accumulate at least 50 pieces of writing in one year. Of course you can write more than that, but life is busy, and it's hard to write all of the time. The Rowens are as follows: Nicole, Brad, Barry, Leslie, Ella, and Dominic. Here we go!