Gunner Jacobs (299 words)

Gunner Jacobs

Gunner Jacobs rode the arrow of time like he had the world in his pocket. Fast life, fast times, and winters in Antigua.

In an expensive suite, he entertained a mysterious woman dressed in black. She reclined on the rolled-arm loveseat, legs crossed, and requested, “Tell me about the Book of Gunner.”

“Rags-to-riches story,” Gunner said. “Colourful threads woven into a rich tapestry—each thread a part of who I am.” He sipped his Scotch. “Now looking for a miracle.” He narrowed his eyes on her. “You aren’t what I was expecting.”

A lopsided smile. “I get that a lot.”

“How long have you been in this—occupation?”

“Since Pharoah collected taxes.”

He popped his brows. “You’ve aged well.”

“Our serum works wonders.”

“Fountain of youth in a bottle?”

“So to speak.”

Gunner hesitated. Was immortality worth the greater part of his fortune? “Will I be happy—living forever?” he asked.

“If you are the happy kind.”

He stroked his chin. “Let’s do it.”

The delivery came. The glass jar contained a golden liquid. Gunner downed it in one long guzzle. It tasted like coconut. He felt no different, except tired. To bed, and he fell asleep thinking about his childhood pet, a loyal beagle named Baxter.

Gunner woke up happy. He thumped his tail on the bed, rubbed his eyes, and yawned. He jumped off the bed and lifted his back leg and relieved himself on the side table.

The housekeeper found him. “Good boy,” she said, scratching his ears. “Now, where did you come from?”

The arrow of time had thrown Gunner a curve. The mysterious woman was the first to discover the error. They’d shipped the shape-shifting serum by mistake.

Gunner spent the rest of his days very interested in the scent of rabbits.