Monday, July 24, 2006
The most horrible sound
Now I only wish I could hear that horn.
The sunlight streamed into my room, but I've never felt more in the dark in my entire life. I wept for hours because that sunlight caused so much joy that the songbirds were trilling their throats hoarse and I just hated them for it. I looked down and saw that my stereo had gone on again this morning because I never bothered to reset the alarm to keep it off.
A few minutes passed and I placed the bat back next to my bed; the stereo would turn on no more. What might have been comical and possibly theraputic a few weeks ago was yet another horrible reminder of my life. The smashed stereo now sat (or more to the point, lay) next to the used guitar I once bought (with amp) for $100 from an ex-girlfriend's sister. Of course that guitar had seen better days because now the neck was broken from the body and skewered the amp's sole speaker. The sole remaining string that hadn't broken ("D" I believe) basically held everything tight while the world was pulling it apart.
I trudged down the stairs and saw someone banging on my door. I gave them the finger and walked into the kitchen. I was most definitely not in the mood to deal with friend or foe, family or stranger today. If I was forced to be social, people might find themselves garroted by that remaining unbroken "D" string upstairs.
As I looked at my telephone answering machine, the message indicator blinked with the number 20 in the LED screen. I did get one of the only smiles of the last few weeks after I put it in the microwave on HIGH for 10 minutes. I assume it was a nice explosion, but I didn't stick around to watch.
I managed to sit on my couch and grab the bag I had lugged in from a friend's house the previous night. As I unzipped it and took out its lone content, I thought about that little fucking bastard from across the street and how he thought it was so funny lighting off that firecracker above my sleeping head as I lay on the front lawn after my yardwork. The last sound I ever heard was my own eardrums popping and then nothing but the ringing and the throbbing of my heart.
I lived with no scarring, but is this a life? No music. No voices to comfort you. No comedy to make you smile. No horns to rail at. No nothing but a buzzing ring and a rising and falling pressure sound in my fucking head.
I looked at the gun I held in my hand and realized that I wouldn't even hear it go off when I pulled the trigger.
Tuesday, July 18, 2006
BtVS: Begin Again (7x01)
Oh yeah... please note that this was, quite literally, my very first attempt at writing a television script or a screenplay of any sort. For those of you who actually do this, I apologize if it's just not formatted correctly or downright horrible.
Season 7 – Episode 1 “Begin Again”
INTERIOR – Science Classroom
[The camera pans through what appears to be a classroom laboratory. It’s just a little brighter in the room than the dark of night outside, but still it’s obvious that it’s nighttime and there should be no one there. The camera comes to rest on a window after going from desk to desk showing the newness of everything. The window breaks as a white hand snakes inside and unlocks the latch. Suddenly a head pops up and it’s Dawn Summers. She slides into the room, quickly followed by a boy Charles James. They giggle as they walk to the classroom door. They open and exit.]
INTERIOR – School Hallway
Dawn: I don’t know about this. I mean… we’re forced to be here 5 days a week anyway, why are we sneaking in tonight?
Charles: Don’t you want to be the first to see Sunnydale High: The Sequel?
Dawn: Please… Janet and Miguel snuck in 2 days ago.
[Charles looks like someone just cancelled Christmas for him. Dawn stops and a worried look crosses her face.]
Dawn: Did you hear something?
[Charles strains to listen and is looking down the hall with Dawn behind him.]
Charles: No Dawn… I don’t hear a thing.
[Charles turns around and Dawn grabs him and kisses him deep. As they are clumsily groping, a locker slams shut and they both jump. Dawn looks down the hall at an approaching figure with sheer terror on her face. She fumbles for a stake in her purse as the figure leans against the locker in the mostly dark. Still not bright enough to see who it is.]
Voice: I don’t think big sis would like that li’l bit…
[ROLL OPENING CREDITS]
EXTERIOR – Summers’ Home
[Same house as it ever was, but there are very colorful flowers blooming out front now. It seems brighter and more vibrant than the last few times we experienced it. The front door opens and Buffy Summers walks out in a smart business suit and she bends down to pick up the paper. As she walks back, the camera cuts…]
INTERIOR – Summers’ Home
[Tracking shot of Buffy walking through the front door looking at the paper as she crosses through the living room, closing a desk drawer with her hip while continuing to read the paper. She continues on into the kitchen and grabs a cup of coffee that’s steaming. As she sips the cup and reads the paper, she crosses through the dining room and ends up at the bottom of the stairs. As she crossed through the rooms, we notice everything is well kept and looks very warm (loving). She is standing at the bottom of the stairs, still reading the front page while sipping the coffee.]
Buffy: C’mon Dawnie… we’ll be late!
[Dawn walks down the stairs looking like any high-school girl should look on her first day of school as a sophomore in High School. She appears to be very tired, but is attempting to hide it.]
Dawn: I still can’t believe you’re a telemarketer Buffy. It’s like… you spend all night fighting and then you wake up the next morning, put on a suit, and annoy people more than the things you dust.
[Buffy looks up from her paper with a definite “we are not amused” look.]
Buffy: It beats smelling like DoubleMeat all the time besides… someone needs to do it.
Dawn: Can’t you find something more… respectable though? I just tell my friends you’re an escort. [She smiles a toothy grin]
[Another look from Buffy. This time with a raised eyebrow and a very slight smile.]
Buffy: Car. Now. Move.
[As Dawn scoots past, Buffy swats her on her butt with the paper. She grabs her bag and closes the door behind her.]
INTERIOR – Dawn’s Room
[The curtain parts just a little as the camera catches Dawn and Buffy backing out of the driveway. As they drive away, the camera pulls back and follows the POV shot into the bathroom as we see the shower and a wet towel hanging. As the camera slowly pans around, the edge of the mirror becomes evident and the camera does a 180-degree rotation to show Spike standing in front of the mirror. He has changed a lot since the last time we saw him. His hair is longer and at it’s “natural” color of dirty blonde / light brown. His face is completely speckled with stubble and he has a weariness about him. He looks down at a note he’s holding.]
POV – Dawn’s Note
Note: Spike, Buffy won’t be home until 5, so you can get cleaned up without worrying about bumping into her. I’m sorry I can’t let you stay, but no one would understand. Let me know where you go. Dawn
[He crumples it up and tosses it in the toilet. He starts to disrobe.]
EXTERIOR – A car driving through the streets of a city.
[The camera follows a car driving for a few seconds then]
INTERIOR – Car
[Xander Harris is driving and Willow Rosenberg is in the passenger seat. They are both smiling and gabbing along as they drive.]
Xander: So the flight was okay? Any good movies? Did you get to partake in their lovely vomit scented bag?
Willow: No regurgitation necessary. The flight was good. I think spending time with Giles in England helped a lot. I didn’t think about… well you know… Tara more than once or twice a second.
[Xander reaches over and holds her hand.]
Xander: We’re all here for you Will. Buffy and Dawn can’t wait for you to move back in and…
[Willow has a scared look on her face.]
Willow: I can’t… I just… not in that room… No… I…
Xander: Will. Will… calm down. We take it slow. No one expects you to treat it like it never happened. We’re here. You’ll get through it.
[Willow lost all sense of humour in her face as she stares out the window heading back to the Summers house. Xander is still holding her hand.]
INTERIOR – Credit America
[Buffy sits at her cube wearing a headset. She is leaning against her hand, propping her face up while playing Solitaire on the computer with her free hand.]
Buffy: …and all at an incredibly low rate of… No sir. No sir, I don’t really think I should give you my home number. Sir… would you be interested in… hello? Hello?
[She sighs and rips her headset off as she throws it on her desk. She turns and sees John Marcus, a co-worker smiling.]
John: Another wonderful day in the trenches huh?
Buffy: You know, this morning my sister compared me to an evil, blood-sucking thing that should be killed. I’m beginning to think she might be close.
John: Hey. Telemarketers are the scourge of humanity. On the hate scale we’re just below lawyers and right above umpires. That’s pretty good company!
[Buffy gets up and stretches as John is definitely checking her out.]
John: So, um… what are you doing tonight for dinner… I mean do you… maybe want to grab a drink after work?
[Buffy smiles and sees how hard that was for him.]
Buffy: Thanks John, but my friend Willow is coming home from England today and it’s kind of important that I be there tonight. Maybe some other time.
[John smiles easily.]
John: I’ll hold you to that.
[As he walks away Buffy smiles a little sadly and turns back into her cube to grab her headset.]
INTERIOR – Summers’ House
[The front door opens as Xander carries Willow’s bags inside. He turns to look at her, but she’s standing in the middle of the front walk looking terrified of the prospect of going inside. Xander smiles a little and carries the first wave of baggage upstairs. As he enters Willow’s new room (Dawn’s old room), the closet door closes quietly as he drops the big bags.]
Xander: For such a small girl, you sure do have a lot of crap Will.
[He exits the room and tromps down the stairs to get the next wave as the closet door opens and Spike emerges dressed and cleaned up.]
Spike: Hotel Summers open for business… again. Doesn’t that girl ever want to live alone?
[He slides out of the room and hears Xander coming up again, so he runs into the Master Bedroom (now Buffy’s room) and slides under the bed.]
EXTERIOR – Summers’ House
[Willow is still standing on the front-walk, wringing her hands thinking about everything that transpired.]
FLASHBACK SHOTS – Tara smiling, Tara being shot, Tara dying.
[Willow closes her eyes and begins to fondle a necklace she has. It’s an Egyptian Ankh and it seems to calm her down quite a lot. She looks at the door as Xander exits.]
Xander: So if you give me a day or two I can build you a cozy little tree-house that you can stay in because I don’t think Buffy & Dawn really want you camping out in the middle of the yard.
Willow: [smiling somewhat] I’ll be fine, but not right now. It’s just… it’s the first time I’ve been back since… and it’s just not as easy as I hoped it would be. Xander I wasn’t even here for Tara’s… I don’t even know where she’s… I’m a horrible person.
Xander: Hey… Giles said he thought it would be best to go right then. We all listened. He’s the boss remember? Believe me… everything is going to work out. C’mon… I’ll buy you an ice-cream cone.
Willow: Gee. How can I resist a man who offers dairy products?
INTERIOR – Sunnydale High School Hallway
[The hallway is filled with students as Dawn is smiling and talking to her friends as they pass the Honorable Richard Wilkins III Memorial Auditorium. It’s the end of the day and everyone is slamming lockers, packing books, and leaving the school. Dawn arrives at her locker and begins to pack. Deliberately, she looks to the left at the double doors to the library. With a look of curiosity, she finishes her packing and walks to the double doors. As she opens them we see a library that we’ve never seen before. Instead of the dark, dreary place from Seasons 1-3, there is a full wall of windows that provide adequate sunlight. The remaining walls are painted a light cream and the books take a back seat to the central computing area in the middle of the room. The middle-aged female librarian, Janice Benny, smiles at Dawn as she walks in.]
Janice: Can I help you dear?
Dawn: Um, no. I just heard so much about this place from my sister that I pictured it… well really different.
Janice: Oh, well as you know it was just rebuilt. The architect who designed this library was very insistent on this design. Feung-sheui I take it or something similar. Apparently no one ever came in here before the school was demolished, so they decided to redo the entire structure of it. I am quite fond of it myself.
Dawn: Yeah. I guess it is nice. Just a lot different from the stories I’ve heard.
[Ms. Benny’s face clouds over momentarily and she moves from around the desk.]
Janice: And what stories would those be child?
Dawn: Oh! Nothing. My… uh… older sister graduated from here a few years ago… the last graduating class actually, and she just described the library in great detail. Believe me, it was nothing close to how it is today. I think Giles… I mean the old librarian Mister Giles, would have a fit… from what Buffy said about him of course.
Janice: Buffy? Your sister is Buffy Summers?
[Dawn has a look of questioning and a trace of fear on her face.]
Dawn: Yes. I’m Dawn Summers, Buffy’s younger sister. Why? How did you know about Buffy?
Janice: [Quickly] Some of the older staff told me stories that’s all. Some sort of troublemaker… but that doesn’t mean you’ll fall into the same pattern right dear?
[Dawn backs away slowly.]
Dawn: No, of course not. I… I have to catch my ride. Thanks for the… information.
[Dawn exits the library as Janice Benny walks back into the stacks. She leans against a bookshelf and slides it back into the wall. An ornate grate sits on the floor beneath where the bookcase stood. A low murmuring is heard emanating from that grate.]
Janice: Soon he shall rise again and feed on the blood of the Slayer. Her power will be his and all the world will be under his command.
[Off-screen]
Voice: Miss Benny?
[She smiles malevolently as she slides the bookcase back to it’s original spot.]
Janice: Coming dear!
INTERIOR – Café Diablo
[Xander & Willow are drinking coffee and just then Buffy bounds in behind Willow and grabs her in a tight embrace. As they pull back, both sets of eyes are glistening with tears. Xander just smirks.]
Willow: Hi.
Buffy: [Laughing] Hi. How are you feeling after that long and exciting flight back to this side of the pond… that is what they call it over there right? The pond?
Willow: Yeah… the pond. Ooo… and they say things like ‘the boot’ for a car trunk and ‘a flat’ for an apartment… and… and… chips aren’t chips, they’re crisps because chips are fries and fries… well fries aren’t anything, but…
[Buffy grabs Willow and hugs her again.]
Buffy: Welcome home Will.
INTERIOR – The Summers’ House
[Dawn is sitting on the couch watching TV when Spike walks downstairs.]
Dawn: Spike! I thought… you weren’t… Buffy will be home any minute!!
Spike: It’s okay Dawn. I’m leaving now. That ponce Xander was playing bloody bellhop carrying up all the bags Willow brought back with her. I looked through her things, but she didn’t pack any sweets. What I wouldn’t give for just one good English toffee…
[Lost in thought, he shakes his head and smiles at Dawn.]
Spike: Anyway, while I was waiting for Harris to leave, I must have fallen asleep underneath Buffy’s bed.
[He sees the look on her face.]
Spike: Nothing like that love… I crawled under there to hide and just drifted off. No peeking, no poking, no bloody prying. I know she’ll never forgive me for what I did and I don’t blame her in the least, so I’m not planning on doing anything else that will add to it. Thank you for helping me out Dawn. Keep an eye on your sister.
Dawn: Stay out of trouble Spike.
Spike: Well that was very matter of fact l’il bit… I promise to try. I guess I might go north and rub it in to Angelus that he’s not the only “special” vampire anymore. Oh the look on his face will be priceless.
[Spike looks one last time and leaves the house. Dawn looks almost sad, but turns back to the television.]
EXTERIOR – The Summers’ House
[As Spike is turning the corner, a car comes down the street and he dives behind a bush. The car passes The Summers’ House and he shakes his head, dusting himself off.]
Spike: My how the mighty have fallen…
Voice: They have farther to fall William… much farther indeed.
[Spike wheels around and looks into the face of a man who is smiling, but not with any trace of kindness.]
Spike: Liam…
INTERIOR – The Summers’ House
[About 15 minutes have passed and Buffy enters the house with Xander. Willow is closer to the door than she was earlier, but still looks frightened. Dawn runs to the door and looks out. Willow waves with a half-smile.]
Willow: Hi Dawnie.
EXTERIOR – The Summers’ House
[Without hesitation, Dawn runs out and hugs Willow. They both cry.]
Dawn: I missed you so much Will.
Willow: I’m so sorry for everything Dawn. I’m so so sorry…
Dawn: It wasn’t you Willow. It wasn’t you at all.
[Dawn pulls back and looks at Willow. Tears are flowing freely.]
Dawn: You’re home now and that’s what matters.
[Dawn grabs Willow’s hand and slowly leads her inside.]
EXTERIOR – Credit America
[Buffy & John are leaving work. Many people in suits, all looking very driven, are rushing past them into cabs, cars, etc.]
John: So how was your friend. Did they get home okay?
Buffy: She did. It was really good to see her. I think Dawn is really good for her right now.
John: Dawn being your sister?
Buffy: Oh, sorry. Yes. Willow, my friend, has been having a really rough time of it and she and Dawn are very close, so Dawn is the best thing right now for her. I figured since I promised you that we’d grab a drink, I’d let those two hang out and chat.
John: Sounds like a plan. If you don’t mind, I just have to stop by my aunt’s house before we go. I can meet you at the bar if you’d like…
Buffy: Nah. It’s probably easiest to just tag along with you right now.
[John smiles very broadly.]
INTERIOR – The Benny House
[Buffy & John walk inside and enter the living room where a woman is standing at the window looking out.]
John: Buffy, this is my aunt… Janice Benny.
[Janice turns to greet the two.]
Janice: I’ve heard so much about you Buffy. I even met your sister today.
Buffy: Dawn? Where did you meet Dawn?
John: Aunt Janice is the librarian at Sunnydale High School. Keeper of the Stacks isn’t that right?
[Janice smiles sweetly and nods.]
Janice: You get to meet so many interesting people at my job.
Buffy: Yeah. I remember. Librarians are the social animals of Sunnydale.
John: Has my friend been to see you yet Aunt Janice.
Janice: No, but I have heard from him lately.
John: You just have to meet him Buffy. He changed my life. You always hear these people say this so and so took them from this lowly creature and gave them this purpose or that… well in this case it’s just so true!
Janice: I’m very sure he’ll be ever so pleased to meet you.
Buffy: So, who’s this friend you’re so vocal about?
[Buffy hears footsteps behind her. As she turns to face the newcomer, she is hit across the face with a candlestick. Buffy falls and John looks down in a frenetic trance.]
John: Uncle Ethan. I’m glad you could join us.
[The camera pans up to the newcomer and it’s Ethan Rayne. He stands with a candlestick in his right hand, his face pulled back into a sardonic grin.]
Ethan: The Master will rise again and when he does… he will reward me for bringing him back from the hell this little girl condemned him to.
[END CREDITS]
Friday, July 14, 2006
Deja View
Andy weaved through the traffic like Terry LaBonte on the NASCAR circuit. There was traffic slowing ahead of him, but he punched the gas and slid into the oncoming lane of traffic to get around the turning car. As the traffic signal turned red ahead of him, he eased the car to a stop and took a look in the rear-view mirror.
He was a ruggedly handsome man. His hand ran through his short, light brown hair absently. As his eyes shone like cuts of jade catching the rays of a bright sunbeam, he smiled. The curve of his lips accentuated the two-inch long scar on his left cheek; the pinkish gash was in stark contrast to his dark complexion. It was usually the first thing people noticed about him.
The light turned green and he punched the gas once more. Normally, this trip to Dr. Weidel’s lab took him a good twenty minutes without traffic, but today, he was in sight of the converted warehouse and only ten minutes had ticked off the clock. He roared into the parking lot and screeched to a halt mere inches from the concrete wall. Laughing, he popped the trunk and grabbed his gear. As he walked up to the door, he was already shaking from the adrenaline. The door swung open with a click and he walked inside.
The lab was a cross between a machine shop and a physics professor’s office. There were engines and oil all over, but the walls reflected intelligence beyond that of a mechanic. There were countless sticky notes with undecipherable notations on them stuck to more sticky notes stuck to dry-erase boards with more notations and of course there was the obligatory poster of Albert Einstein with his tongue sticking out. It was located on the outside of the bathroom door. Physics humor.
“Ahh, Mr. Jensen. So good of you to be early for once.”
Dr. Heinrich Weidel wheeled himself into the room. He stood about five feet, eight inches… if he stood. Dr. Weidel had been confined to a wheelchair since he was emancipated from
“Andrew. You seem a little… tense. Are you going to be alright with this experiment?” he said calmly, yet his eyes shone through the giddiness of a young child. In truth, he was probably more excited than Andy.
“Cocked, locked, and ready to rock doc! I have been looking forward to today since you fist told me what was going on here. Just let me get changed and we are ready to go!”
Without waiting for a reply, Andy raced into the back and started to get changed. Off came his jeans and T-shirt. On went the sleek black wetsuit / stealth gear. He emerged from the room holding a watertight case about 3 feet long by 6 inches wide by 6 inches deep. He inhaled deeply and walked to the large metal and glass pool in the middle of the room.
Dr. Weidel called this monstrosity “the hydro-temporal displacement chamber” or HTDC for short. Andy, after finding out what those words meant, simply called it the time tub. He had been merely working his way through college when he spotted a help wanted sign on the Cherry Pit (the hangout for he and his friends). It promised experience in the field of physics, a personable manager, and, most importantly, nine dollars an hour. He came to find that he learned a lot of physics from his personable manager, Dr. Weidel. He learned to like him almost as a father figure. All he had done to earn his keep was cleaning and reaching for the infirm doctor.
It was about six months ago, Dr. Weidel decided to tell Andy what he was working on. He had dreamed since he was a child that he would discover the vehicle that would take him back to before the Nazi SS came and took him and his family to the death camps simply because of the choice of their religion. He dreamed about leaping back in time to stop Hitler before he came to power. He fantasized about stopping the face of madness before it could infect others. It was now time to show his dreams to another. He trusted Andy because his own grandmother had been whisked off to another camp to die like millions of others. Her ticket had come because she was too vocal about not wanting her children to be raised in a Nazi regime. Dr. Weidel found that same hatred for the Worker’s Party in this young man and felt a kinship with him. When he finally discovered the secret to jumping in the temporal sense, he shared his findings with Andy, hoping that he wouldn’t think the old man crazy.
Far from it! Andy seized the chance to right the global wrong that Hitler and his armies had perpetrated on the planet. This is where they stood now… poised on the brink of the past while staring into the future, praying that things will be different when he returns. Andy looked at the pool, now beginning to swirl counter-clockwise slowly. Bolts of blue electricity began to form, drawn to the center of the rapidly swirling funnel. Vaguely a light began to shine through the center of the pool. Andy looked back at the professor and waved. He jumped into the electric blue water.
He landed hard on the slate roof and managed to roll to the flat portion before falling into the street below. He smiled and looked up. There, among the wash that a housefrau had hung out was a small swirling opening, hidden by the flapping sheets. According to Dr. Weidel, he had 30 minutes before that portal closed. He didn’t wait to find out if it was accurate.
Andy had traced this route many times in his mind. This portion of the city had not changed in the almost sixty years since this time originally existed. He ran and leapt and ducked and rolled through wash and over gaps in buildings. Around chimneys and climbing railings until he finally reached his destination. He overlooked the square where, it appeared, millions of Germans were standing amidst the red, black, and white symbol of hatred and intolerance. Everywhere Andy turned, another flag emblazoned with the swastika hung. He scanned the crowd for the main platform where his target would be standing. He found it 1000 yards away.
Most of the crowd were holding the Nazi flag and chanting along with their neighbor in support of der Fuhrer. Andy watched as old men and women, young boys and girls, and men and women his own age were swept up in the speech. He was amazed at how one speaker, no matter how passionate, could persuade a country to embrace a policy of hate and of intolerance. He listened to the rambling German and could not pick up many words. He heard “Jews,” “inferior,” “master race,” and “
Andy knelt down and opened the case he brought with him. He began pulling out dark pieces of metal and as he assembled the pieces, it began to take the shape of a sniper’s rifle. He caressed it with almost a sexual touch. He lay down on his stomach and looked through the sight: Hitler was impassioned and gesticulating wildly. He barely stopped talking. Andy took a breath…
“Rot in hell”
…and pulled the trigger. The madman’s head imploded with the entrance of the lone bullet and then exploded in a cloud of red haze. There would be no more camps and no more death. Hitler had been laid to rest in the year before World War II would start. It was 1938.
The crowd started to react in waves. Those being the closest to the stage and its main attraction caught wind of the murder before the back of the crowd. However, the news spread in a heavy current and before long the entire crowd was worked into a frenzy running and screaming and looking for the man with the rifle. None thought to look at a rooftop almost a mile away, if they had, they would have seen Andy, proudly looking at what he had done and placing his weapon back into its case.
He picked up the rifle case and began the walk back to the entranceway to his time. He retraced his steps and reached the swirling electric-blue hole in time. He threw his case in first and watched it shimmer and disappear.
“Pretty damn cool doc!”
He backed up about five feet and ran into the portal. He disappeared from 1938.
He heard a click and when he opened his eyes he was staring at two men in black uniforms. Their armbands had the swastika emblazoned in their arm, but the fields were reversed. Instead of a dark symbol of hatred, the bastardized symbol was a deep blood red on a field of black.
“Achtung!”
Andy instinctively put his hands up and said, “Don’t shoot!”
The two men stood there with their Luger pistols aimed at his head, daring him to breathe. The taller of the two men was the prototypical Aryan soldier. He was muscular and his chin was chiseled to a point. His closely cropped blonde hair was partially hidden under the officer’s cap he wore. His piercing blue eyes bored a hole into Andy’s head as he switched his gaze to the other man. His blonde hair was sticking out from underneath his cap, but it was darker and unkempt. His eyes were a much darker blue, almost blackish and when he spoke, his accent was not a German one.
“You must be the man who broke into Dr. Weidinriech’s lab and attempted to sabotage der Furher’s laboratory. Stand up slowly and we won’t shoot you yet.”
The man spoke in clipped tones, much like a native New Yorker. And…
“Dr. Who?” Andy asked. He looked around and discovered this was not the lab he had left from. The sticky notes had been replaced with whiteboards with defined handwriting, legible to anyone who could read. The picture of Albert Einstein now showed Adolf Hitler saluting the crowd with the caption: Mien Furher: Martyred for his people. The reversed flag of the Nazi regime hung on the sidewall.
“Dr. Weidinriech,” the taller guard said, “but you already knew that didn’t you traitor?”
“I have no idea what you are talking about! Who are you and where is Dr. Weidel?” Andy was grasping at the last straws of sanity when a man walked into the room behind him. He turned and gaped in shock at the man he knew as Dr. Weidel, but obviously was not.
The man was five feet, eight inches tall and was skinny and had a hawkish nose. The glasses, which his Dr. Weidel wore, were perched at the tip of his nose. The beard he had grown so accustomed to was gone. The clean-shaven scientist was wearing a black lab coat with a red swastika over his right breast.
“Who is that man? And what are all of you doing in my laboratory? I have the personal assurances of our leader himself that I will have no interruptions of my work! It was a lucky coincidence that you caught him, but what were you doing here in the first place Heinrich?”
The shorter, Americanized Nazi answered, “My apologies Heir Doctor. We were passing by and saw a strange light. Franz and I were hoping that there were no problems and we came to make sure that things were all right. We saw this man step out of the shadows and thought he looked out of place so we grabbed him to prevent him from doing any damages to your machines. That is all.”
The doctor seemed to ponder this and said, “From now on, I will thank you to investigate only when screaming is involved. You could have walked in on a ‘strange light’ that would have burned your entire body in a flash of a second. These machines are not just contraptions gentlemen…”
“Uh… hello? What the hell is going on here?” Andy broke into the conversation. “Where am I, because this definitely isn’t where I am supposed to be.”
Franz tightened his grip on Andy and shook him once to get his attention. Heinrich moved in front of him and spoke.
“You, my treacherous friend are in
“The What World Reich? How did that happen? Hitler’s dead! You lost World War II… right?”
Heinrich slapped him across the face with his glove. “Acting like you are mad will not save you. Our beloved Furher was murdered, but his memory lives on. World War II, as you call it, was a great victory for the Reich under General Wilhelm Von Fasbrau. He became prime leader after the Nazi army crushed the Allied troops in 1942.” Heinrich seemed to be reciting a well-enacted scene in a play. The words were there, but spit out mechanically, as if implanted there. “In 1944, the German people propagated the globe taking over the world economy and pioneering the scientific advancements that make society today. Our honored leader led the charge that crushed the American people in 1944 and now the entire world is under his glorious leadership.”
Andy shook his head and remembered a saying from his father The evil that you know is sometimes better than the evil that you don’t son. When you charge into things blindly, you will hurt things more often than help them. How very true. His eyes were focused on the floor when he noticed his rifle case lying five feet away. The guards must not have seen it when they grabbed him. He lifted his head and surveyed the situation. Franz was still holding him, but Andy hadn’t struggled so the grip was loose. Heinrich was discussing things with the doctor and seemed to be intent on that.
Oh God, let me remember those moves I saw on Saturday morning wrestling!
Andy drove his elbow into Franz’s stomach and wheeled him around as a human shield. He grabbed the gun and pointed it at Heinrich’s head.
“Throw your gun down. NOW!”
Heinrich did as he was told. He looked amused.
“You realize that you will never escape don’t you? We have 10 men outside waiting for us.”
“Well dude that’s where I got ya. I don’t plan on going outside. I plan on going through there,” he nodded towards the HTDC. “Now Doc, be a good boy and set the controls to spin this thing to August 1, 1938. Believe me when I tell you I know how it works, so one wrong turn, I kill you all and set it myself. This way you can live until I set things right. So do it.”
Dr. Weidenrich spun knobs and flipped switches and Andy heard the crackle of electricity. He smiled and pushed Franz towards the other two men. He stopped to grab his case and leapt up onto the tub’s wall.
“For what it’s worth Doc… I am sorry we didn’t leave things the way they were.”
He jumped.
The familiar sensation hit and he rolled to his stomach. He was back in
“Sorry grandma…”
He took aim and fired. As he witnessed the blood spraying from his own head he collapsed. The crowd heard nothing as Hitler kept speaking about the Third Reich and how it would last for a long time. Andy lay dying on the rooftop watching the other him, the previous him, twitch its final spasm. He closed his eyes and though about the future, his present, and how it was all behind him.
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