By the clock on his car radio, it was 1 a.m. It had been raining since about 8 p.m. the previous evening. Even with his wipers at maximum speed, he still had to drive under the speed limit to see the road.
He was tired. He had started his "day" almost 20 hours before and he was looking forward to getting home, having a hot meal, and getting into bed.
He was coming from a client and his meeting had taken twice as long as he had anticipated. These long days were hard on him and he looked forward to just getting home.
His trip was taking him through the neighborhood where he grew up and passed his mother's house.
The lightning briefly lit up the surrounding houses and woods. As a small child he shared a room with his brothers, and during lightning storms they would all stare out the window into the alley and watch as everything became as bright as day for a split second.
The center line in the road was his main focus in the rain. After a few minutes he found himself dozing at the wheel, only to jolt upright in fear that a wall would be there to greet him when he awoke.
He passed over the parkway, and would be passing his mother's soon. He remembered how often he had pedaled his bike up this same hill at the end of her block, and also how he could have done it a million times before he grew tired when he was younger.
He started to think of his children, how they would have been sleeping for hours by now, and that it was almost 24 hours since he had seen them. He missed them during the day, but that feeling really set in as he drove home at night and there was nothing to clutter his mind.
He approached his mother's house and he could barely see the light that shone above the front door.
He sighed, closed his eyes for a moment, and rubbed them.
When he opened them, the sunrise was brilliant. He was on his bicycle traveling in the opposite direction towards his mother's house. There was not a cloud in the sky. He stopped short.
Ahead of him, bisecting his mother's house, was what looked like a video screen extending left and right and as high as the eye could see. It was where he had come from.
He realized it was a portal of some kind.
It was 1 a.m., raining, and pitch black in there. It was at that moment he realized that he wasn't dreaming. Cars approached him with headlights on and then vanished. The same happened to cars that came from his direction once they crossed that threshold.
He looked around and realized that he was on his Apollo Racer. It was a twenty six inch bike that his dad had bought him when he was 13. It was in perfect condition.
His 14 year old self could not see the portal. Only the street of his youth, bathed in the light of sunrise.
Around his neck hung his newspaper delivery bag. On his feet were Converse All Star sneakers and instead of his suit, he was wearing a pair of Levi cutoffs and a tank top.
He still had those shorts at home, tucked away in a drawer. In a moment he realized that he was 14 years old again.
His stomach was flat and tight. His breathing was slow and clear and he could see the brilliance of the day as a teenager does.
His 26 year old mind could hear his 14 year old thoughts.
The portal back to the future was slowly drifting over his mom's house in the direction that he had originally been driving from. It was heading towards the parkway.
He looked at his mom's driveway and saw the old Pontiac Bonneville that his dad had sold so long ago.
His 14 year old mind was racing as always. It was almost thinking too quickly for his 26 year old mind to keep up with.
He was going to the beach today with his older brothers on the bus, and it was going to be a great day. He had $20.00 and thought that this was all the money that he would need for the day. This was a lot of money to have at one time. He had saved for a few weeks.
Everyone in the house was still sleeping. It was barely 6:30 a.m.
His 26 year old mind forced his 14 year old self to look around for a good long time and soaked it all in.
He saw the church across the street, a jogger passed by, cars that seemed like relics in mint condition passed him.
His 26 year old mind suddenly panicked as it realized his way back to the future, back home, was retreating.
The stream of 14 year old thoughts and energy kept coming though. That younger mind was racing at a fever pitch and it was extremely strong, almost overpowering.
He had just graduated from eighth grade.
Vision of that graduation day swept through his mind.
His older self prided itself on having a great memory.
But he now realized how many faces and events were so easily erased as the years passed.
He rode his bike away from the house and the portal, but his older self had not willed it to happen. It seems his younger self decided to go to his best friend’s house before the beach.
His grip on his younger self was slipping. He immediately thought of his children, and his wife. These images were vivid, for the moment.
But they started to fade into gray.
He raced on his bike away from his mom’s house and the portal.
He had forgotten the physical and mental energy that he had at 14.
At the end of the block his breathing had not quickened, and he continued on. The crisp, dew filled, summer morning was surrounding him.
The wind kissed his skin, the sun warmed him, and he felt truly alive and as if he could ride forever and nothing could stop him.
It was intoxicating to his older self. He loved it and didn’t want it to stop. So pure, so innocent, so full of promise and hope. So alive again.
In one last panicked moment, his 26 year old mind forced his younger self to turn and head back towards the portal.
The portal was retreating more quickly now and would soon be out of reach, as would his wife and children.
He could feel his 26 year old control slipping.
His younger mind was very strong. He wondered how much of the 26 six year old mind would remain behind if he stayed here?
He could start all over again, with an edge. His final summer before High School could be relived again. The last great moments of freedom. High School, and his entire life’s trajectory, would be much different.
The portal was 8 houses away now and retreating quickly.
The 26 year old tried to suppress the power and control of the fourteen year old. It was a tough fight.
The visions of his family were fading. He could not recall his daughters’ faces. He panicked again.
Suddenly, his children’s faces filled up the portal.
These were not just thoughts, but his daughters’ souls realizing they were about to be extinguished.
They were screaming and begging from the future for their father to make sure they were eventually born. It was deafening.
“Dad, hurry! We are fading away! Dad, don’t let us disappear. Don’t you love us anymore?”
His 26 year old mind told his younger mind that he had forgotten to deliver one newspaper near the parkway and that if he did not hurry and get it delivered he would be late to go to the beach with his brothers.
He was on the bicycle again. The portal was almost beyond the hill at the end of his mother's block.
His daughters weeping faces stared at him. Their cries for survival echoed all around him.
He pumped and pumped and the fourteen year old was confused as to why he was doing this.
The chain spun and his legs pumped as hard as they ever had.
His stomach was tight as he pedaled. His breaths were long and sure. His hands were steady, his eyes were clear and bright.
He pedaled as fast as he could, thoughts of the beach, and thoughts of the endless summer overtook his mind.
The portal was almost out of sight.
His 26 year old mind realized it was too late. He grieved for the loss of his family.
In its last conscious moment, it did its best to implant life advice, instincts and warnings in his younger mind.
Then his 26 year old self ceased to exist as did his children.
The portal disappeared beyond the parkway.
His 14 year old self got to the customer’s house just before the parkway and found that there was a newspaper neatly tucked in the mailbox. He looked in his bag and saw no papers. He was momentarily confused.
Why had he come back all this way?
He turned and pedaled back home. He took his time and wondered what high school would be like and then he started to sing, as he often did when he rode his bike.
He pulled up to his garage, leaned his bike against it, and went inside.
For the rest of his life, his hunches and instincts always seemed to pay off.
His new life’s trajectory was what he had always deserved.
