Story 3: Change

Vincent walked down the crowded street, taking in the sights, sounds and smells of the city. For all the talk about cities having a smell similar to that of a garbage chute and a waste dump, he was surprised to find that the city was instead an appealing mix of fresh bread, alcohol, smoking meats and a dozen other smells. It practically made his mouth water.

There were shouts, laughter, and conversation taking place all around him, in at least a dozen different languages, many of which Vincent had never heard before. As he watched the people he passed, he was able to gather the general topic that was being discussed: some people were arguing about pricing of some goods being traded, another pair, clearly a couple, were holding hands and pointing to various restaurants, trying to decide where to eat. A woman was kneeling on the ground in front of a child, tying his shoes and telling him that they would be going home soon.

The street he was on had a variety of shops on it, consisting mostly of store fronts on the bottom level, then with several stories going up making up the apartments, lofts, and offices that the business owners below called home. The buildings all varied in age, material, and architectural design. They would make excellent subjects to write about for his book.

“Ah, hello my friend!” a man with black hair and dark brown skin wearing a flannel shirt and blue jeans waved at him, gesturing him to the booth he was working at. “You seem to have a discerning eye, someone who really takes in his surroundings! May I interest you in some of my souveniers today?”

Vincent, curious and taken in by this mans wide smile and welcoming gestures, approached the booth and observed some of the goods available there. There were some books titled “Map of the Capital and “Capital City Tourism”. A few baubles and pieces of jewelry also caught his eye. Finally, his gaze was drawn to a small, wooden frog. The design was crude and clearly hand carved, featuring several notches and bumps from the natural formation of the wood. The frog had a big smile carved on its face and large black eyes painted on it.

“How much for the frog?” Vincent said, picking it up and handling it. “This is really well done!”

The man ran his hand through his hair and laughed, “oh well thank you. I never actually thought I would sell one of my own creations here. You really like it?”

“It’s perfect. I have a nephew back home who would love to get something so perfectly well carved and beautifully finished. I’ll pay you fifty dollars for it?” Vincent looked the man straight in the eyes and smiled warmly.

“Ah, uh…Fifty dollars is a lot of money, my friend, are you sure?” The man was taken aback, but clearly didn’t want to deny such a great sale on a relatively slow day.

“I am definitely sure. You’re doing great work here and if my sale can help you find more time to take off of working your booth, and more time doing your art, I would love to support that.” Vincent held out a crisp, clean fifty dollar bill.

“Oh, thank you sir. Thank you!” the man was beaming with joy and happiness at this sale. It was not just a sale of a wooden frog, it was validation that his art was not just something he did in vain.

“One other thing, my friend.” Vincent said, a sad note touching his voice, “Why don’t you take that fifty dollars and take your husband out to dinner tonight. I hear there is a great Steak restaurant up in White Plains. I think he will really like that.”

“You know, I may just do that.” the man said, turning to tuck the money into his register. After setting the bill down in the drawer he paused, “Wait… How did you know I had a husband?” The man said, turning back to his customer. But the customer had disappeared.

Vincent had taken off in a sprint from the booth and ran down a random alleyway to get out of the line of sight. Checking his watch, he saw that he had just a few minutes left. He had done it, he had saved them both. Smiling a triumphant smile, he hit the small silver button on the side of the watch. As he did, a portal opened directly in front of him. A free standing gateway made up of blue light and energy. Vincent stepped forward into it, pausing to take one last look at Capital City.

“Hard to believe this will all be gone in a few hours.” He said sadly. The portal closed around him and in an instance he was back in his own time. He stood in the ruins of the city he had just visited. The Capital had been the first target of the war, the bombs and weapons of the enemy had utterly destroyed its people and buildings. But the town of white plains, about 25 miles North of the Capital, had been untouched during the first wave of attacks, due to its relative size. Now it was time to see if he had indeed changed history.

Vincent ran back to his hover-bike and raced back to White Plains. It took him just over twenty minutes to get there. He barely had the hover-bike stopped and was already running toward the door of his home. Bursting into the doorway, he saw three figures sitting with their backs to him, sitting around a circle of chairs having a conversation. As he burst in each of them stood up and turned around quickly, and there they were: Vincent’s mother, Cheryl, her brother in-law, Markus and her brother, the man who had sold him the wooden frog, the man who had been the vendor that day, the man who had been in the city when the bombs fell, who attracted the illness that the bombs held, and the man who had died of that disease several days ago: Hector. “You’re back.” Vincent said, breathlessly, “I can’t believe it worked!”

“What worked Vincent?” Hector said, laughing, “You just left to go scavenge in the ruins.”

Vincent ran to his uncle, hugging him tightly. “I brought you something." Vincent said, holding out the frog to his uncle.

“Where did you…” Hector started to ask as he turned the frog over in his hands “I remember this, I sold this to a young man, about your age, the day the bombs fell. He paid well and convinced me to take Markus out for dinner.”

“Yeah, Uncle Hector, that was me. I have something to show you.” Vincent said, holding out his watch. “I can change everything!”