Until the End of Time

Jeffrey's eyes were open, but he couldn't see. He inhaled water and choked. Salt water. The ocean. He tried holding his breath, but it was too late. Cold waves of panic washed over him as he realized he was about to die in this dark world of muffled splashes and inaudible voices.

Suddenly, a pair of hands jerked him from the water by his shirt collar and forced him to his feet. They pounded his back in what seemed to be punishing anger.

Jeffrey's sight returned as he threw up all over Mr. Montgomery's white shirt. He found himself standing in less than two feet of bay water in his drenched 1941 school uniform while his classmates observed him from the shore, some smirking, some looking on in concern. Mary Jo Hanson had turned away.

The growing drone of Japanese fighter planes forced everyone's attention to the sky. Jeffrey's eyes filled with dread, and his soul vibrated as the bombs began to drop. Two separate explosions nearly drowned the distant screams before he was yanked back into his seat in the classroom, along with the others.

Mr. Montgomery's class was back from December 7th, 1941, Pearl Harbor. Their uniforms were costumes from the past. This was the first of five such field trips planned for Time Travel 101.

As Jeffrey drafted his eyewitness report to the sound of Mr. Montgomery's shoes squishing across the floor and the faint aroma of vomit, he envisioned the vivid red E soon to be stamped across the top of his paper. It took his mind off the screams and the bombs. Real people. Real bombs.

Anyway, Jeffrey had no intention of becoming a time traveler. He only took the class because Mary Jo Hanson said she was taking it. She sat a few rows ahead to his right. He could stare at her long eyelashes all through class if he wanted, which he mostly did. When they entered the coordinates for the Pearl Harbor shore, he'd changed his numbers slightly, intending to arrive standing next to her, but he must have calculated something wrong. Instead, he'd appeared face-down below the water and blind for how many seconds?

Interim Anopia, they called it. Everyone in the class had signed a paper to certify they understood that Interim Anopia meant temporary blindness. It was a rare time-traveling condition that would permanently disqualify him from the field.

"While every effort is made to arrive in safe locations, there's always a chance you may need to step or even dive out of the way of something. Perhaps a growling dog on a leash or in the case of earthquakes, keeping your balance is imperative."

Tell Mr. Montgomery you have it, his conscience told him. No, don't tell anyone, his anti-conscience whispered. They'll kick you out, and you'll end up in Ms. Alexander's Creative Writing class.

Word had it that Ms. Alexander secretly hated the creative and sucked the imaginations from her students like a literary vampire. Day after day, they left her class devoid of free thought.

~*~

A month later, Jeffrey landed in pitch dark amidst overpowering smoke, shouting, and anguished cries. As he coughed, people rushed by close enough for him to feel their panic.

"Arabelle!" someone shouted next to Jeffrey's ear. Somebody else jostled him forward, and he stumbled, then grabbed a passing shoulder to steady himself. The crowd enveloped Jeffrey, and he hurried along with them at their pace, with a hand on the person's back in front of him, still unable to see. 

When his eyesight cleared, he found himself surrounded by people running for their lives as fire raced toward them. Jeffrey's class was observing the Great Chicago Fire October 8th, 1871.

The wind blasted smoke and ashes over the crowd as they ran through the night. Jeffrey patted the sparks from someone's shirt before it caught fire. Though the dark clothes he wore for this trip were treated with flame retardant, he burned his hand, putting out a fire in a woman's hair. He tried to remember what he'd learned in class. Lake Michigan was to the left. They were moving south. Was that the right direction? Yes, but not for him. He had to turn back.

A man with his back on fire shoved him out of the way. Jeffrey watched, ready to pitch in, while others tackled the man to the ground to smother the flames. The students weren't supposed to interfere. Their job was to observe. When the crowd moved on without Jeffrey, he moved north, keeping his eyes on the fire.

Without warning, he landed into the seat at his desk in Mr. Montgomery's classroom. He was the only one to arrive with singed hair, holes in his sweatshirt from the blowing ashes, and soot on his face and hands.

"I witnessed a monster, an invisible dragon, as it attempted to devour an entire city," Jeffrey wrote in his report for Mr. Montgomery. He was practicing for that creative writing class.

When he glanced toward Mary Jo Hanson, she smiled before turning away.

~*~

The class next landed on April 20th, 1906, two days after the Great San Fransisco Earthquake. Again, the travel blinded Jeffrey. He stood perfectly still until his sight cleared, but here, the smell of smoke was the same as in Chicago, with much of the city on fire in the quake's aftermath.

The assignment was to blend into the crowd as the people evacuated their homes for the safety of the hills and then eavesdrop on their stories. They weren't supposed to ask questions or conduct actual interviews. When Jeffrey was able to see again, he melded into the parade of San Franciscans dressed in a costume of the times.

Far ahead, Mary Jo was holding hands with Stuart Downing. A sigh escaped loud enough for a man dressed in pajamas and a suit coat to turn around and take notice. Jeffrey trudged on.

The people around him weren't talking, so he studied the sights. A lady carried a birdcage with kittens inside while a parrot perched on her shoulder. A man holding a potted plant to his chest muttered to himself, but Jefferey couldn't make out what he said. A woman carried a broom in one hand and a hat with ostrich plumes in the other. There was no wailing, running, or screams of terror. These newly evacuated had time to grab a few possessions before leaving and clutched their bits of home as they walked.

Building walls had fallen in various places, and most chimneys had collapsed. Part of the third floor of one building had fallen into the road. A chair holding clothes sat among the ruin.

They passed a group of boys jumping back and forth over a chasm down a side street, having fun. Then, a much younger boy came running toward them from out of nowhere.

"Go home, Oliver!" A boy shouted. Probably the younger boy's brother.

Oliver ignored him, reached the chasm, and jumped. He didn't make it.

"Help!" Jeffrey shouted as he ran toward the boys. A group of men followed behind him, including the man in his pajamas and the man holding the pot.

"Oliver!" his brother shouted. The other boys looked on in horror.

Jeffrey crouched down to peer into the crevice. Oliver peered back with wide, round eyes.

"We're going to get you out," Jeffrey shouted. "Are you hurt?"

"They're going to get you out, Oliver," parroted his brother. "Are you hurt?"

Oliver shook his head with his mouth open, showing two missing front teeth, branding him as six or seven years old.

The opening looked to be eight feet deep. Ten at the most. With Jeffrey being the tallest, the men lowered him into the chasm by his hands. Then, it was a short drop to the bottom.

"I'm going to lift you up to stand on my shoulders. Once you reach your arms up, those men will lift you out of here."

It didn't take long to rescue Oliver. It took longer to rescue Jeffrey, but he soon stood among the others again, brushing dirt from his costume.

"Oliver, I told you to go home," his brother admonished.

"Oliver!" a woman called, running toward them.

Oliver's mother, thought Jeffrey.

All at once, he was thrown back into his seat in Mr. Montgomery's classroom.

Mr. Montgomery was standing in front beside another man. They waited for the students' attention. The rustling of shifting bodies stopped. Everyone breathed quieter. Mr. Montgomery cleared his throat.

"Which one of you rescued the boy who fell into the fissure?" he asked.

Fear struck like lightning through Jeffrey's entire being. He prepared to be expelled from the class at once. Maybe he'd even broken the law and would be handcuffed and taken away by the other man.

"I did," answered Jeffrey. "I'm sorry, but I just couldn't let it be." He waited for the reprimand. Mary Jo wouldn't look him in the eye. Stuart Downing turned around in his seat to smirk.

"Every year, one student from this class rescues the same boy. It's an event written up in the historical libraries of San Francisco. A mysterious stranger helps rescue the boy and then disappears. What you didn't know was an aftershock collapsed the fissure shortly after the boy was pulled out. You're to be commended, Jeffrey Robbinson. Your name will be added to the Traveler's Club plaque along with the others. 

The other man let Jeffrey hold the engraved plaque while he took down the spelling of his name. There was also a pin.

"Congratulations," the man told him.

Mary Jo gave him a smile while Stuart glowered.  

~*~

Jeffrey's luck ran out on the fourth field trip. The date was September 24th, 1925, at Yankee Stadium. They were set to watch Babe Ruth hit a grand slam home run. Jeffrey arrived in darkness to the smells of popcorn, peanuts, and hot dogs. When his sight returned, he was at the hospital across the street from the school. Jeffrey never saw the baseball that hit him in the head and knocked him out. He never got to see Babe Ruth. When Mr. Montgomery came to visit, Jeffrey confessed to him about his Interim Anopia.

"That's too bad," Mr. Montgomery said. "You would have made a fine time traveler. There's only one more term, but unfortunately, you won't be able to finish it in our class. The blindness has been known to become permanent."

Jeffrey couldn't hide his disappointment. The final field trip was planned for August 17th, 1969, in Bethel, New York, Woodstock. He'd been looking forward to the event all year and had even tie-dyed a shirt. He let out a big sigh after Mr. Montgomery left.

Everyone in the class had signed a baseball for him. Mary Jo came to visit and gave him a Get Well Soon card with a blue teddy bear on the front. Hope to see you back soon, ♥Mary Jo was written inside with curly letters. No doubt her i's would have been dotted with hearts, but there were none. Alas, his dream of attending Woodstock while holding her hand was never going to happen.

~*~

The creative writing class wasn't nearly as bad as Jeffrey thought it would be. Ms. Alexander said he wasn't ready to write. She had him critique stories written by never-heard-of authors instead. After turning in three failing critiques, he learned not to criticize. He suspected Ms. Alexander wrote all the stories herself and that she was too sensitive to accept anything but glowing praise. The story for the previous week had been about a person who wandered about the world thinking. The concept wasn't bad in itself, but the main character did not think deep thoughts. He thought about what to have for lunch, what to wear to the park, and what items he should order for his pizza at dinner. Here, Jeffrey read the list of twenty-seven available pizza items while rooting for plain cheese. His critique cited the work as "Amusing and realistic." He wasn't lying. He meant amusing as "a musing" because the man mused throughout the narrative. Realistic because these were the types of thoughts that rattled through his own brain much of the time. He got a C plus.

The newest story was flowery like a walk through a garden would be if you were only a foot tall. No characters were introduced, but then he'd only read through page three. When Jeffrey got bored, he decided to use some of the depictions to write a love letter to Mary Jo.

My Darling Mary Jo,

Your eyes are like the sun on dew drops. Your lips are tulip buds painted by nature's paintbrush, and your smile touches me as a breeze through the lilacs on a springtime morning. Lunch? Saturday?

-Jeffrey.

When he realized the class was nearly over, Jeffrey rushed through reading the rest of the descriptions and wrote his review.

"Like a lovely walk through a giant garden any given day in June."

When the bell rang, he turned in his critique with a smile for Ms. Alexander, which she did not return.

~*~

The next day, Ms. Alexander winked at him. The paper she handed back was marked with an A plus.

Oh no! Instead of his gardenish critique, he'd given her his letter to Mary Jo!

Dearest Jeffrey,

I'd love to have lunch with you. Unfortunately, school policy prevents me from doing so, but your request will be cherished in my heart until the end of time.

-Ms. Mary Jo Alexander.