Monday 17 June 2013

COMPLETE THE CIRCLE - Chapter 18

TO GO TO THE HOMEPAGE - CLICK HERE.

Chapter 18

‘I’m sure, Deanne, with all that equipment in your laboratory, you could have both baseball caps examined in minute detail under an electron microscope or something and prove they’re exactly the same,’ said David Lutman confidently.
Certainly her labs could prove they were the same, she thought, but even so, it looked abundantly clear that he was telling the truth. ‘I’m sorry...’ she said sadly, ‘I’m so sorry to have doubted you…’
He leaned down and hugged her very tightly, taking the caps from her hand, throwing them onto the floor, and then gently pulling her to her feet. She then went to the bedroom to retrieve a box of handkerchiefs. Lutman followed her, and they sat together on the bed as she wiped her nose.
Now, Lutman believed, was the right time to tell the full story. He explained to her how it all began with meeting his future self, and that this future David Lutman told him that he would meet his wife one year into the future. And that his double disappeared into a small, faint circular glowing hole that had grown big enough for him to jump into before explaining anything properly. He described the clothes he had been wearing, and then told her about the baseball cap that he had left behind.
‘But why would you want to wear my clothes?’ Deanne asked curiously.
‘I’ve really no idea! For what I remember though, they didn’t look small, just a bit silly.’
He then told her about booking the holiday as a result of his future self’s advice; his ‘relationship’ with Claudia, and their accidental meeting in the clothes shop. He decided to tell her about the acrimonious circumstances that surrounded his departure from the tour, and in doing so, could feel a great burden of weight being lifted. Deanne initially looked at him with slight mistrust, but before long any remaining doubts soon passed.
Under the same circumstances, she thought, she would probably have done exactly the same thing.
*
‘I’m so sorry I snapped at you,’ she sniffed, ‘I’m afraid that’s just one of my negative traits, I’m afraid. I can get really bitchy occasionally. Perhaps that’s really why I frightened off all the other Englishmen!’
‘It’s okay, Deanne, it’s okay.’ He put his arm around her. ‘Even now,’ he added, ‘what’s happened to me so far seems so unreal, and so fast.’
‘Yeah, it’s still incredible to take in. But nobody’s going to believe it or us. Maybe, after I examine the two caps extremely closely, then that might give us all the evidence we need. God though, the implications of all this… it’s either so fantastic… or so… so…frightening, even.’
‘Frightening?’ said Lutman in disbelief.
‘It’ll completely revolutionize scientific thinking or complete destroy it… David, we have to go and check those caps!’
Lutman looked at her wearily. He now felt that he had had enough excitement for one day. ‘Deanne, can it wait until tomorrow? It’s dark, we’ve come a long way, and I’m rather tired.’
‘But this is the potentially the biggest thing –’
‘I’ve been living with this biggest thing for the past six weeks or so, and I’d like a break from it for just one moment. Please.’
Deanne smiled. ‘Okay. We’ll leave it ‘til tomorrow.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Now kiss me please.’
*
‘So David,’ said Deanne, smiling, as they prepared to settle down for the evening, ‘after only, what, knowing me for just over twenty-four hours or so, are you now going to ask me to marry you?’
‘Um…’ Her question took him by surprise. ‘Well, after what you’ve just been through, I don’t really know if I should. But…’
He placed his hand onto hers. ‘Every ounce of my being tells me you’re going to be my wife and I… well, as you say, it’s only twenty-four hours, but in that time I’ve never felt so happy, so at ease with myself, so content to be with you. Deanne, you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met. Really, I mean it. But I may have unwittingly dragged you into something you would’ve never imagined.’
‘I think you’ve already done so,’ she smiled, ‘but now life's never sounded quite so exciting. I’m now shaking with all the possibilities!’
‘Yeah, well, believe me, it does kind of wear you out after a while.’
Deanne took a deep breath. ‘Hmmm. Tell me David, have you ever heard of Steven Hawking?’
‘Of course I have. He’s the physicist in the wheelchair. A brilliant guy. He wrote that book ‘A Brief History of Time’. Why do you ask?’
‘Well, Hawking himself doesn’t believe in time travel as such. He believes that nature will always contrive a way to ensure time travel can, in fact, never occur. But if it did, he suggested a so-called chronology protection conjecture, or, if you like, some kind of cosmic censor. Something that butts in to prevent a paradox.’
‘I am a bit ignorant about all this,’ Lutman admitted, ‘so what do you mean exactly by a paradox?’
‘These are facts or qualities that seem to contradict each other. It’s something very popular in sci-fi circles, and the very idea is itself used as overwhelming proof that you cannot travel back in time.  Basically, if you had the chance to go back in time and kill your own grandfather before your mom or dad have the chance to be conceived, then what would happen to you? Do you simply disappear as a result?’
Lutman shook his head and shrugged. ‘I really don’t know.’
‘Well, according to Hawking, the cosmic censor will ensure it’ll never happen. If you try to kill your grandfather, then the censor will ensure that the man you kill is not your grandfather, or any serious injury he sustains as a result of your attack will still result in some kind of miraculous recovery to ensure that you will be born in the future.’
‘I remember reading something about that on the internet,’ admitted Lutman, ‘although I’d be lying if I said I understood it all. Anyway, I’ve made it, I’m here, and my future self has done his job. I’ve met the girl of my dreams and I can now relax and be by her side, right next to her, to touch, to feel, to enjoy!’
He wrapped both his arms around her and they flopped onto the bed. He was just about to kiss her when she put her hand across his lips. ‘What did you just say?’
‘Er… that I’m going to meet my wife, and, erm, well…’
‘Hey now, wait a minute – not so fast!’
Lutman took his arms away from her shoulders. ‘Why?’ he asked, puzzled.
‘Are you certain it’s really going to be me? To touch, to feel, to enjoy. Isn’t that what you’re really saying?’
‘Oh, sorry Deanne, that was erm, a little out of line,’ he said ruefully.
‘And that I’m going to be your wife? That’s a bit presumptuous, isn’t it, in such a short space of time?’
Lutman straightened up. ‘But Deanne, I’ve never felt so sure in my life! And you just asked me…’
‘Do you know how I really feel about this?’
He paused for a second. ‘I don’t. How do you feel about me?’
‘I’m a scientist, David, remember? Don’t you think that it would be very presumptuous on my part to say I’ve met Mr. Right within the space of a day!’
Lutman stood up, feeling he was being playfully wound up. ‘So how am I really going to know if you are her? I mean, every ounce of my being tells me it’s you, and from what I’ve seen, you certainly feel the same way about me! I mean, look at the baseball cap –’
‘Hey,’ she smiled, ‘it still doesn’t mean to say I’m the one. This could be another link in that long chain of events you described that may lead you to meeting another woman, who will then set you on a course to make that journey into the past to tell you to do all this!’
‘Making that journey? If you're the one, than surely that’s not necessary now… is it?’
‘But what makes you think you’ve finished? How do you know the journey isn’t only just beginning?’
Now confused, Lutman did not have an answer. But he knew she had by the tone of her voice.
‘Look David, Just because you’ve found me now doesn’t mean to say I’m suddenly going to produce a time machine out of the wardrobe. You’re going to have to help me, you know.’
‘But how? I’m not a scientist!’
Deanne stood up. ‘Listen to me, David,’ she said firmly, ‘you’ve got to continue this journey for two reasons. First, to ensure the timelines are not going to be affected. You’ve got to complete this journey properly otherwise... we may face consequences we don’t know or yet understand in physics. You are the first true piece of evidence that a journey through time has been successfully completed… once I’ve completed analysis of that baseball cap. Look David. As I see it, your future self has made a deliberate journey into the past to give you a message.’
‘Yes, that I’m to meet my future wife.’
‘Well, in a manner of speaking, okay. But what he’s essentially done is to tell you that time travel has been invented and that you are going to be the catalyst in getting it invented.’
Lutman was bemused. ‘Did he? You know, I’m now getting very lost in this conversation. And what was that second reason?’
‘Unless you continue that journey, you will never know if you have truly met Mrs. Right. You can meet any girl you like and hope she’s the one based on the rather limited information you already know and have about your future. But the only way you’ll be certain is to find the girl that leads to the machine being built in order to make the journey. She doesn’t necessarily have to be the one who builds the thing. She may have contacts. She may do something accidentally. She could do anything that sets off the chain of events leading to your future appearance!’
Lutman really was not certain that he fully understood what Deanne had been saying, but he quickly added: ‘But I’ve found you. All the pieces fit in place. You’re a physicist. You’re interested in why I’m here, with you, today! Otherwise it’s all a pretty remarkable coincidence, isn’t it?’
‘Look, if I marry you, I may still divorce you the following week. A lot of Americans do that, you know. You’ll still be none the wiser. Think about it David. Forget the technical bits and think about the plausabilities. How do you think you would manage to make that journey into your past?’
‘I really don’t know. Maybe I built the time machine, which is unlikely, or maybe… I will bump into someone who happened to have such a thing.’
‘Do you know anyone who owns a time machine?’
‘Of course not!’
‘But you presume you’ll meet someone who has, okay?’
‘Well… maybe.’
‘Do I have one?’
‘From what you’ve told me so far, and from I’ve tried to understand, I don’t think so.’
‘And you seriously think someone's going to come to you with a machine, right?’
‘I don’t know Deanne,’ Lutman said impatiently, ‘all right, so maybe I’m going to build the thing after all!’
‘Do you know how to?’
‘Of course I don’t!’
Deanne looked into his eyes and spoke softly. ‘Well, you’re right about one thing. Yes, by a nice coincidence or by a twist of fate, or by the way all the pieces of this puzzle are trying to fit together, I not only know about the theories about how black holes may be the answer, but I just happen to understand the theories that could build a time machine!’
At this, Lutman went silent for a moment before asking, ‘so can you build one?’
‘Not on my own, no.’
Lutman’s shoulders dropped. ‘Great.’
‘So are you going to marry me David?’
‘What?’
‘Are you going to marry me?’
‘I er…’ Every ounce of his being said yes, but he could not get that particular word out of his system.
Sensing his sudden discomfort, Deanne continued. ‘The fact is, David, in order to ensure time travel does get invented, your future self told you you’re going to meet your wife during your particular holiday. This has filled you with an irresistible compulsion to find some woman who may, or may not turn out to be, a physicist.’
‘Look Deanne, I’m getting rather little lost here. This whole thing’s rather bewildering.’
‘So bear with me a little longer. As I said to you, you're the catalyst in getting this time machine or whatever invented. You have unwittingly become part of a pre-destination paradox – something that you’re meant to do. This is another extra component in the cogs that have been set into motion in getting this time machine built in order to send you, back in time, to tell yourself to do it all over again, and thus completing what will be a never ending circle, and as a result avoiding another kind of paradox – with or without disastrous consequences!’
Lutman looked at one of the bedroom walls, now very perplexed. ‘So you’re saying I do have to build a time machine, then?’
‘Not necessarily, but somewhere on the way you’ll be involved. You’ll either meet someone who has done so, or someone who’ll be involved in the project of constructing the thing.’
‘But you said you knew how to build one, with help.’
‘Yes, but even so it still might not be me. I might only furnish you with all the ideas that are the first stage in building a time machine. As I said, I might not even end up as your wife. You may meet some mad scientist next month who’ll be happy to put some of my theories into practice, and meet his equally crazy daughter and fall in love with her. Either way, you have to do something to ensure this event is going to happen.’
‘And what if I don’t? You said there would be dire consequences!’
Could be. Well, many things might happen. We may not get married. You may not meet your wife here. It’s possible you may never marry and the pieces to the puzzle may disappear for ever, and you never get to travel in time and never meet yourself in the past. You might, as a result, cause a paradox disruption which could lead to potentially devastating consequences!’
‘Jesus,’ Lutman blew hard. ‘That sounds a bit strong. What do you mean by that? What devastating consequences are you on about?’
‘Who knows? On the one hand, it could mean absolutely nothing at all will happen, but on the other… the end of the universe, perhaps?’
Lutman laughed. ‘And I thought I was the one who was supposed to sound geeky! Erm… yeah, but we don’t know that! Come on, the end of the universe? That is surely pure science fiction! This whole thing is now beginning to sound like some pretty awful sci-fi story!’
‘So tell me, was what happened to you pure fiction?’
Lutman shook his head. ‘I… suppose not…’
‘And what is Dzizzy-R?’ she added.
‘What?’
‘What’s Dzissy-R – or DCCR? You said he shouted this at you before he went back into that cloud.’
‘I don’t know. Really, I have no idea. I’ve been trying to find out and everything.’
‘Do you want to marry me?’
He paused.
‘Still shy, I see. Do you really feel that this is the end of your journey?’
Lutman looked down, and then up. He always had this gut feeling that there would be more to come in this crazy adventure. Deanne had simply confirmed it. ‘No,’ he admitted.
‘Sit down.’ Deanne put her arms around him, and together they lay back onto the bed. ‘If it’s any consolation to you, I too feel absolutely certain you’re destined to marry me. And I can’t avoid it. Simply because, since the day I first met you… god, that’s a silly thing to say, since yesterday when I first met you, I always felt that you were going to be my husband. And now I know. My compulsion to be with you is equally irresistible!’
She put his arms around him. ‘A pre-destination paradox. What will happen, will happen. It’s unstoppable.’
Exciting it all sounded, particularly with the feeling of Deanne’s warm body holding him very tightly, Lutman really felt he had enough of the time travel subject for now. ‘Look, I’m getting a little hungry,’ he said softly, ‘is there a nice restaurant near here?’
‘Yeah, but don’t you want to eat here?’
‘Well, if I’m going to ask you to marry me, I’d like to do it properly regardless of whether some time machine, paradox, projection… conjecture thing or whatever makes me do so.’
She beamed, and then kissed him. ‘Of course darling! And I’m sorry for being so upset a few moments ago. But you have to bear this in mind. I’ll marry you only on the one condition.’
‘And what’s that?’
She smiled broadly. ‘You’ll help me towards this time machine!’
There may have been one huge weight already lifted off his shoulders, but he began to feel that it had now been replaced by another one. ‘Okay,’ he said quietly.
He then suddenly remembered the caps, ‘Deanne, what does ‘DJC’ stand for?’
‘Deanne Jane Clarkson.’
‘Ah, I see. I understand. And what happened to the Mickey Mouse bag?’
‘Now in the hands of my friend’s niece. But I’m sure she’d let us borrow it for a couple of days, if it turns out we need it! Okay David. Look, get the rest of your stuff unpacked. As you already said, it’s been a long day. I’m tired too and would like to get cleaned up and get some sleep. Let’s leave it now till tomorrow. We’ll go to the labs then.’
‘Sure. Oh, by the way, why did you write ‘I WANT THIS TO BE TRUE’?’
‘Isn’t it obvious why?’
‘Stupid of me to ask, I suppose.’
‘Just a little, but I forgive you.’
‘Deanne?’
‘Yes, David?’
‘If I help you towards building the time machine, will you marry me?’
Deanne leaped up into the air. ‘YES! I will! I’ll marry you!’
They kissed long and passionately, remaining on and in the bed until the first rays of morning sunshine seeped through the window shutters.

Chapter 19 >

Monday 3 June 2013

COMPLETE THE CIRCLE - Chapter 17

TO GO TO THE HOMEPAGE - CLICK HERE.

Chapter 17

It was early evening when the rocks, forests and deserts of Arizona finally gave way to the urban sprawl that was the Phoenix suburbs. The traffic on I-17 increased accordingly. But conversation had all but ceased between David Lutman and Deanne Clarkson except for when he wanted to check with her that they were on the right highway and whether she wanted further breaks, which she did not. For Lutman, this silence was worrying: she was unhappy with him for some reason, and he did not know why. She did lighten up slightly when they approached Fountain Hills. Even so, this joy was muted.
Her home was a small apartment that was located on the second floor of a three-storey block in a quiet corner of the town.
As she opened the door, she barked instructions to Lutman to dump her bag onto the floor and to put his into the spare room. He went inside and she followed. This room, which had been kept in immaculate condition, acted as her office and storage facility.
Deanne immediately made for a large trunk in the corner that sat on the floor. It was next to a desk which was surrounded by shelves of countless text books. She opened it. Inside the trunk was all manner of clothing: tee-shirts, blouses, skirts, shorts, all of which had not been worn for some time. After a few seconds sifting, she pulled out a tee-shirt and a pair of shorts, and held them in clear view of Lutman, clearly intending him to see them.
He gasped. They were exactly the tee-shirt and shorts that he had described to her earlier.
‘Come with me,’ she said curtly.
They walked into a bright white bedroom that contained a king-size bed and four sets of wardrobes, one of which was clearly quite old. Deanne opened it. She went through one of the shelves, and hidden among the gloves and scarves was that day-glow green baseball cap. And those letters, DJC. She took it out and held it in front of him.
‘Oh my God,’ he murmured.
‘Is this the baseball cap?’ she snapped.
‘Oh my God,’ he repeated, shocked. ‘It is.’
He put his hand out to take it but Deanne swiftly pulled it away. ‘Tell me, David, honestly and truthfully,’ she said grimly, ‘who was this traveller? Was it you?’
He hesitated. Was what he was going to say next going to be the right thing?
But Deanne was not going to gave him time to ponder about that. ‘David!’ she screamed, ‘Tell me, for God’s sake!’
‘Yes,’ he said, very quietly. ‘It was me.’
         ‘Oh. My. GOD!’ She stood back, laughing in disbelief. ‘I gotta think,’ she said to the wardrobe.
         She paced up and down the room three times, and stopped again, then looked at Lutman disbelievingly. ‘You?’
He nodded nervously, staring at her, hoping for a change in her expression. But her beautiful, beaming, cheerfulness had totally disappeared.
‘All right Buster,’ she said brusquely, ‘how did you know about my clothes?’
Lutman stared at her, suddenly numbed at the question. ‘I told you, I –’
         ‘I haven’t touched these clothes in years!’ she yelled. ‘I haven’t worn them since… since… shit, there’s no way you could’ve seen me wearing them… unless you’re not who you say you are.’
She took both garments in her right hand and thrust them in front of his face. ‘So when and how the hell did you sneak into my apartment to check what I had? Have you been rummaging around my things? And did you get some kind of perverted enjoyment out of that?’
Utter bewilderment was now sweeping in. ‘Deanne!?’
‘And to cap it all you managed to get your ultimate prize – me, and successfully got me into bed?’
‘Now wait a moment, Deanne,’ Lutman quickly blurted, ‘you’ve well and truly jumping to conclusions!’
She shook her head in disgust. ‘Oh yes. I am. And you, traveling through time… stupid, childish, nerdy little story. Really should have recognised you were one of those nerdy, geeky, sci-fi single types. Couldn’t you really have come up with something a little more original as an excuse to shag me?’
‘What?! Deanne! –’ That comment unsettled him. That was, in his mind, below the belt.
She began sobbing, her voice full of outrage. ‘Don’t you Deanne me! I was hoping you had some kind of explanation but clearly you don’t. You can pick up your bag again right now and get right out of my apartment!’
         ‘I haven’t done anything!’ Lutman knew he had to somehow fight his corner. ‘Look, for goodness sake, what the hell would I’ve gained by telling you I saw your clothes?’
         But Deanne Clarkson was no longer interested. ‘And to think for some stupid reason I fell for you! The moment I saw you in the store, I… an Englishman! A perfect gentleman! It was all going to be so wonderful! And I wanted to be so much with you and now I’ve been such a… such a… an idiot!’ She became almost distraught. ‘Why the hell did you do this to me? Why did you take such advantage of me?’
And then she slowly sat down on the end of her bed, the mental and physical energy used to express her anger and exasperation leaving her exhausted. She still wanted to shout at him, to tell him what an utter bastard he was, but the words were struggling to come out. Her tears were uncontrollable.
         Still staggered by her reaction, Lutman tried to think. This wasn’t fair! Talk about jumping to conclusions! He now seriously believed he was about to lose this beautiful girl. And everything else will just simply, surely, fall apart…
         And then a thought struck him.
After collecting some kind of composure, he began. ‘Deanne, please, I have to show you something – something that should help prove I did not and have never been through your clothes!’
Although she continued to ignore him, Lutman made up his mind that things could not get any worse. There was nothing to lose.
He sat down next to her and put his arms around her, expecting to be shaken off violently and receiving a torrent of abuse. To his surprise she did not.
‘Deanne,’ he said slowly and softly, ‘come on, listen to me. What would I have hoped to have gained by telling you all this? I could’ve just kept completely quiet, you wouldn’t have been any the wiser, and we would’ve still lived happily ever after! Look, I have to show you something.’
He got up, opened his bag, and took out the baseball cap. The very same baseball cap she had shown him. A little dirtier than hers, but it was the same.
She reluctantly looked up, and then stared at it. ‘Oh God,’ she sniffed quietly.
‘Deanne,’ said Lutman firmly, ‘show me your baseball cap, please.’
She handed him the cap and he looked inside for the black biro lettering. It was not there. He had expected this, but was then not sure what to do next. Deanne looked up at him, wanting to believe him, but she could not accept what he had told her so far. It all just defied reason. ‘You could’ve course have just gone down to the store and had an identical baseball cap made up,’ she said with a hint of derision.
         And then, more in desperation than inspiration, he came up with an idea that, to him, seemed logical. Plus, as far as he was concerned, this would surely prove his innocence and his story once and for all.  ‘Listen to me, Deanne,’ he said to her quietly, ‘and listen carefully. I want you to find something to write with, and then I want you to write a message anywhere inside your cap. You can write anything you like – as big or as small, as short or as long as you’d like it. Do it out of my sight, but do it where you can still see me.’
Deanne looked at him incredulously. ‘What?’
‘Deanne, I’m serious. This will prove everything I’ve told you.’
         She looked at him still doubtfully, but having regained some of her composure, took her cap. She got up and grabbed a pen from one of the many drawers and left the room.
‘Okay. I’m game. But you wait there,’ she told him bluntly.
‘But one more thing,’ Lutman quickly added, ‘I’m going to put my baseball cap on my head, so you can see there’s no way I can affect what’s going to happen next. Now, I’m going to turn my back away from you and put my hands behind my back. You write whatever you want to write in your cap, and at the same time you can keep an eye on me to make sure I’m doing nothing stupid.’
‘All right,’ she said suspiciously from across the room.
She sat on the wooden living room floor next to the large green sofa. She fixed her gaze firmly and distrustfully at Lutman, and then she studied the inside of the baseball cap. She slowly but carefully wrote something inside, every two seconds looking across at the spare room. His arms were clearly fixed behind his back, and there was no way he could see what she was doing, or that he could do anything suspicious. He could only hear her shuffling, but, significantly, he also heard a little tearing of stitches.
         It was five minutes before she was ready. ‘Okay, that’s done. Now what?’
‘Okay, now don’t show me what you’ve written. I’m going to take off my cap and show you exactly what’s inside mine.’
He walked into the living room and held out his cap. Deanne placed her cap on her lap and took his. She looked inside. Her eyes widened as she examined it very carefully.
Then her face turned white. She picked up her cap and looked inside. Then she looked again into Lutman’s, and then exchanged each cap from lap to floor, from right to left hand. Her breathing was noticeably faster.
‘Oh my God…’
She kept looking at both caps several times in both hands. She could not believe what she was seeing. She was about to ask him how he did it, but she knew there was no way he could have known. Despite the slight sweat marks, there, written in exactly the same block handwriting style in the very same white lining where she had torn the stitches away, and in the very same size and lengths, and with the very same ink smudges, were the very same words:

I WANT THIS TO BE TRUE.

Chapter 18 >