The Time Machine
“So, what have you come up with?” James asked.
Sheldon sat at the round table looking down into his hands. He said nothing, which prompted James to ask again. “Sheldon, what have you come up with?”
“Nothing, really. I mean, I was thinking a time machine would be the best option.”
“Time machine?” James pulled a chair out and sat beside Sheldon. They were not especially close, but as brothers, each felt somewhat responsible for the other. “All you could come up with was a time machine?”
“Yeah.” Sheldon inhaled deeply and looked back down at his hands.
“Why? So you can go back in time and not marry Ruth in the first place?”
“Oh, I hadn't thought of that,” Sheldon twisted his head; the kind of twist intended to release the neck from its collar. “That's a good suggestion though.”
“Listen, Sheldon, a time machine, even if one existed, is not a viable option.”
“I don't want to kill her.” A sudden shock of volume in Sheldon’s voice made him retract. “I don't want to kill her,” he whispered. “And I don't really want to kill myself,” he added.
“Jeez, I'm so glad I never got married.”
“Yeah, be thankful.” Sheldon turned in his seat and faced the kitchen wall, the wall with the clock and the calendar. “Do you think mom and dad felt like this?”
“How far did you get the last time you ran?”
“Idaho.”
“God damn. And they still found you?”
“They were waiting for me. Besides, I can't run now; it would be my third time.”
“So what? What's the worst they can do to you?”
“Prison.”
“Prison? How is that any worse than marriage?”
“How? James, please. Ruth's not that bad.”
“She's bad enough that you don't want to be married to her.”
James stood and walked to the kitchen sink. There were a few dishes piled there. “I don't think mom and dad ever got to this point. They were married before the laws changed.”
They had been married, their parents, in the early years of the century, back when marriage was just beginning to be legislated. They married around the time that state constitutions, as well as the U.S. Constitution, made it formal: Marriage is between one man and one woman, much to the chagrin of the separatist Mormons and homosexuals. When their parents married, they could still consider divorce, although they never did as far as James or Sheldon knew.
“So, Sheldon,” James turned on the faucet, turned it off again, and looked out the window. “So, you don't think murder or suicide is the best option? Did you try hypnosis or drugs?”
“Hypnosis doesn't work. So, that leaves me with only one option—I have to build a time machine.”
“Ri-ght.” James crossed the room and looked at a family photo on the wall. He and Sheldon had just started school; Sheldon was in the third grade, and he was in the second. Their parents looked young—not happy, just young. James blew some dust off the picture frame. He hadn't looked at the photo in years. He hadn't been in his brother's kitchen for years. “A time machine, so you can go back and not marry Ruth?”
“I never said that; I'd still marry her.”
“I'm confused, Sheldon. If you had the time machine, why go back at all?”
“So I can stop the man who started the ballot initiative. You know, the one who made divorce illegal.”
“Sure. Why stop there? There were a whole bunch of those crackpots who did that stuff. Those moralistic tyrants.”
“I guess, but there was only one tyrant who really caused trouble. I figure, I stop him, I could probably be divorced right now.”
James laughed. “Yeah, or you could still be married.”
– Anthony ILacqua believes in the independent press, small or large, as the best representation of modern literature in America and the ideal place to connect well developed readers to the best writing available. Anthony's fiction has appeared in Curbside Splendor, Sherbert Magazine, among others, and his screenplays have been made into widely praised animated films at Rockethouse Studios. He currently works as fiction editor for Umbrella Factory Magazine. http://anthonyilacqua.blogspot.com
