BACK TO THE PRESESNT

BACK TO THE PRESENT

The clock alarm roused me to my regular morning routine. I always respond to the break of day with enthusiasm. As usual, I look in my mirror to ponder my good looks and staring back at me is my dead 88-year-old grandfather. Shocked, I grab my face and feel sagging skin. I look with horror into the pale rheumy eyes of my grandfather. My hair, my beautiful black, wavy hair is now a freckled scalp with sparse wisps of baby-fine white hair. My knees are weak. Stepping back from the mirror, I check the rest of my body. My once hard belly is now a sad little paunch. I'm looking at skinny arms and legs laced with ugly blue veins, the parched dry skin; pale, and wrinkled. Any minute I am going to wake up in a cold sweat, any minute now. Overwhelmed, I sag down on the toilet and look at my hands. Unbelieving, I turn them over again and again. Wrinkled and dotted with liver spots, I can't believe how old they look. My knuckles...someone has inserted marbles under my skin. My hands tremble slightly.

I jump at a voice coming from the mirror. “Is this to your satisfaction, Glenn?”

“What? Who...wha...what are you talking about?”

“Isn’t this what you wanted, Glenn? Didn't you tell that girl you wanted to live in the future?"

My mind is clearing and it dawns on me that this is all about my girlfriend and our debate. For months Linda and I had been having a friendly argument about which would be better: living in the future or living in the past. She insisted that living in the past was best, and I insisted, just as vigorously, that living in the future was best. In fact, I remember telling her how I wished I could live 60 years into the future because, by then, scientists would have conquered all cancers and with the rapid advances in bio technology, genetics and micro-robotics, people will be living to be over 200 years old.


“You fool," I shout at the mirror. “Yes, I wanted to live in the future, but this is ridiculous. I didn’t mean I want to be 90 years old, you idiot. Look at me. Look what you’ve done? How stupid can you be? Who are you anyway?”

Again, the voice from the mirror. “I am your guardian angel, Glenn. Give me a break, okay? I’m just trying to earn my wings here. I’m supposed to be helping you, but I didn't know that you’d get older if I sent you into the future. I'm new at this and I’m already in trouble, Glenn." The voice was wheedled on. "I'm sorry...I...

“Hey, shut up and put me back how I was, right now!” I shake my liver-spotted, knobbly fist at the mirror. “Do you hear me, do it, right now!” I feel silly yelling at the mirror. Who am I kidding; I don't have the strength to scare a kitten.
“I’m sorry Glenn, but before I can do anything you have to at least look at the future.”

“Fageddaboudit! Are you nuts? Change me back now or I'll....”

I refuse to move, but next thing I know, I'm wobbling on arthritic legs and holding tight to the railing of my front stoop. Outside, I do a slow 360. The manicured lawns and the immaculate brownstone homes are gone.

Where is my beautiful brownstone home. I scan the horizon and all I can see are the skeletal remains of high-rise buildings crumbling around twisted steel I-beams poking like accusing fingers into a gray sky. The street is littered with the rusted-out frames of cars, vans, trucks, golf carts, and bicycles. The skeletal remains of humans and other creatures are scattered everywhere. I see the shadow of a woman walking her dog indelibly imprinted on the sidewalk. From their elongated shape, it must have been late in the afternoon when the bomb exploded directly overhead. I never cry, but tears are burning my eyes. The voice from the mirror interrupts my sadness.

“Welcome to the year 2069, Glenn."

The disconnected voice seems to be accusing me for this horror, and I answer, "Yeah, well I never asked for this,"

"You knew it was going to happen, but you refused to face it."

"Not me pal, I never made this happen." The voice is getting on my last nerve.

I ask the voice, "What happened to all the brownstone homes?"

The disemmbodied voice sounds more confident now. “They were torn down because they needed the space for government office buildings, warehouses, and high-rise apartments for government workers. Only a few single family homes and brownstones were saved for high party officials.”

“That really sucks. Do you know who did this?” I look out at the surrounding skeletons of buildings. “What monsters would destroy an entire city?”

“Oh, it isn't just this city, it's every major city in the free world. They are known as the Axis of Evil."

“Yeah, I heard about them when I was a kid." I replied. “That’s what George Bush called those countries who were trying to get nukes back in the 1990's and early 2000.

"That's right, the voice says. Lots of you folks thought it would be good if everyone had them. After all, they wouldn’t use ‘em on each other if they knew they could blow each other off the face of the earth, right?”

I scan the horizon again. It is real and total devastation. I'm thinking, Oh my God, all those millions of people. Man, was I ever wrong. “But…but why? What is wrong with those people?”

The voice was silent for a long time. Finally, “Good question Glenn, but I don't have the answer. Have you seen enough of the future? Wouldn’t you like to go back to the present?”

“Sure, you bet. Get me out of this place.”

"First, you have to promise me something."

Here it comes. Here's where I have to do some good deed or something.

"Yeah, okay. What is it?"

"You have to promise me that you'll tell people what you saw here. Can you do that, Glenn?"

Is he kidding? People would think I'm a flaming maniac.

"Sure, you can count on me."

“Close your eyes, Glenn.”

“No, no, wait a minute. What would happen if I went back to the past? You know, back before my own time? Could I change the future?” And put some long odds on a few horse races?

“Glenn, don’t be so naïve. I'm not about to get myself into more trouble, besides, you can’t go past where you started out."

“Yeah, whatever, but what can I do? I'm not a good talker, I couldn't convince a starving man to eat a steak dinner.”

“How about just warning more people about the evil they are trying so hard to ignore. I must tell you, Glenn, it won't be easy. People aren’t going to want to listen."

“Yeah, sure. Are you really able to put me back exactly the way I was?”

“Of course, and Glenn?"

"Yeah?"

"You really aren't going to do a thing are you?"

"Of course I am, now change me back, please?" Now it's my voice that's wheedling.

I blinked and here I am standing in front of my bathroom mirror again. This time the image looking back is my own wonderful self. I did a quick inventory. Everything is back to normal. I look around the room. Nah...that didn't really happen. Because if it did, I'm just not ready for it.

In the kitchen, I pour hot coffee into my favorite yellow over-sized cup. I love the aroma of Blue Mountain coffee in the morning. I flip the TV on just as the morning news chick is talking over the fading martial music, “Breaking news.” She chirps, “Over the weekend, North Korea has conducted more successful tests on underground nuclear devices and Iran has successfully launched two International Ballistic Missiles. The president expressed his extreme displeasure…blah, blah, blah.” I yawn and feel the stubble on my chin. That news chick wants my bod, she just doesn't know it yet. Guess I'll get ready for work. Man, I hate Mondays.