A Days-Long Journey

The small alarm on Jerry's Perpetual Stopwatch let off a small chirping sound. The noise was so soft that it took Jerry a full minute to wake up, but, when he did, he quickly shut it off and removed his blindfold. A barrage of white sunlight immediately assaulted his vision, and Jerry had to blink and rub his eyes until he became accustomed to it. After two weeks on the road, he had gotten used to this procedure, but that didn't make it less annoying or uncomfortable.

When his vision cleared, Jerry, as usual, found himself in the interior of a tent. The sunlight outside pressed against its emerald fabric, causing the air around him to emanate with a greenish aura. After a few minutes of yawning and stretching, Jerry stood up and made his way out.

Outside lay an expansive field of lush, green grass. In real-time, there must have been a wind blowing, for some of the longer blades seemed to be in the middle of swaying. But currently, they remained frozen in motion, making them appear unnaturally bent and curly.

Above, a few hovercrafts remained suspended in the air. Their thrusters glowed a bright orange, but, despite this, they didn't move. They remained in place, the soft humming of their stalled engines echoing through the empty field.

Jerry sighed as he observed the vehicles above. What a strange circumstance I find myself in, he thought.

He looked down at the Perpetual Stopwatch on his wrist. The object was simple on the service—a square-faced watch with a black leather strap. But the tech behind it was quite advanced. With the press of a button, the flow of time stopped. Everyone and everything around him stopped while he alone remained in motion.

At first, Jerry was averse to buying the device. He was unsure of how it would affect those around him. Thankfully, the seller eased his fears on the matter. "There are hundreds, even thousands using a Perpetual Stopwatch as we speak. And yet, for us, the rivers of time move forward. The Perpetual Stopwatch only stops time for the user. It separates them from our forward-moving timeline and allows them to take in the beauties of life without the pressures of deadlines and countdowns. Time for everyone else moves forward."

"And when I turn it off?"

"Time begins again for you," the seller answered.

But the man's answer was too vague. "Let's say I turn it on and stay frozen in time for an hour. When I turn the watch off, would I jump forward an hour as well?"

The man shook his head. "You won’t miss a single second."

"How does that make any sense?"

"Einstein said time is relative."

Jerry scoffed at the non-answer. "And what does that mean?"

"When you are bored, time moves slower. When you are engaged in an exciting and stimulating activity, time seems to fly. Does this statement strike true?"

Jerry nodded.

The man continued his explanation. "It is a common experience for everyone. A day might fly by for you but might drag on and on for those around you. This simple illustration shows us that the flow of time is based on perception."

"Okay," said Jerry, "I think I am getting it. The watch just changes my lens of perception."

"Precisely! It slows it to a complete standstill."

The conversation eased Jerry's apprehension about the device. However, as Jerry walked away with the Perpetual Stopwatch in tow, the seller left him with an ominous warning. "Be careful though," he said. "If time is stopped, you won't be able to return to the normal time-flow without it. If you lose or break it, you will forever be stuck in a single moment in history."

Jerry shook his head. He did not want to think about that now.

Jerry turned away from the unmoving hovercraft and focused his gaze on his campsite. The fire-pit was black with brunt twigs. A few cans lay open on their sides, the leftover bean juice within leaking onto the grass.

Well better clean up and get going.

The thought made Jerry chuckle, and his inner monologue became light and jovial. What's the hurry? You have all the time in the world!  

*    *    *

Later that day, Jerry found himself in a small town in the middle of nowhere. Without the timer on his Stopwatch, however, the trip would have appeared to him as one long, unending day. When Jerry first activated the Perpetual Stopwatch, it was a little after noon, meaning that, throughout the entirety of his two-week-long trip (at least that’s how long it felt to him,) the sun had been blazing at the peak of its daily cycle. In hindsight, that was a mistake. But it was too late—if Jerry were to deactivate the watch now, his family would watch in horror as he disappeared in thin air.

           Jerry weaved through the people frozen in place on the sidewalks. His plan was to pass through the town and set up camp at the community's outer limit. Technically, he could have set his tent in the middle of the sidewalk. No one would have noticed. But it never felt right to him—sleeping near anyone unaffected by the Stopwatch made Jerry feel as if he were being watched.

           "Well, well… Would you look at that?"

           Jerry's body stiffened. He looked up and, like a deer caught in headlights, stared dumbly at the source of the sound.  

           At the other side of the street stood a man. He was tall, boney, and quite gaunt. Unlike the others nearby, this man was staring and waving at him. Though difficult to spot in the distance, Jerry saw a black Stopwatch around his left wrist.

           The man began to approach Jerry. "There are two of us!" he said excitedly. "What are the chances? Two people in the same town stuck in the same exact moment in time—12:03 in the afternoon on July 20^th. I've been hanging about this particular moment for two weeks and haven't come across you once. How odd!'

           The man reached Jerry and offered his hand. Jerry, by then, had recovered his senses and took it. "I'm actually not from here," he said. "I'm from San Francisco."

           "All the way from San Francisco!" the man exclaimed. "And you walked this whole way?"

           Jerry nodded.

           The man shook his head in disbelief. "Now what possessed you to walk all the way to a small town in the middle of Arizona?"

           Jerry was reluctant to answer such a personal question, but he couldn't think of a way to decline without offending the man. "It’s always been a dream of mine to travel cross-country."

           "An interesting and exciting prospect," the man said. "Where do you sleep? On the ground, in the open, hot, Arizonan air?"

           Jerry gestured to his pack. "I got a tent."

           "Which must be fuming hot! If you are going to travel cross country, you picked a terrible time for it." The man pointed to the sun above. "This weather will last you for a couple more weeks, at least! Perhaps it will get better once you cross a time zone or two. Come, why don't I give you lodging for a time? I sure it will be a nice break from the heat. I keep the temperature at my house at seventy-five degrees. It should be much more comfortable than it is out here"

           Jerry hesitated. A sense of apprehension filed his gut, but the idea of air conditioning sounded too good. "Um… Okay… I'll take you up on that…. "

           The man beamed. "Fantastic. Here, let me show you the way."

           Without another word, the man turned and began walking away. Before Jerry knew it, he was on the other side of the street. Taken aback by his sudden departure, Jerry rushed to catch up.

           "My name is Robert Kinsman," said the man.

           "The name's Jerry."

"So," started Robert, "A cross-country trip… I have to ask—couldn't you just do that in real-time? What reason is there to use a Perpetual Stopwatch?"

           Jerry sighed. This man sure asks a lot of personal questions.

           Once again, Jerry found it difficult to refrain from answering. This man was, after all, offering his home to him. The least he could do was engage in some light conversation.

           "That would be nice," Jerry admitted, "and a lot more convenient. But it's quite difficult. You see, my kids are both younger than five and need constant attention and care, as all children do. Then there's my job, of course. I work at a family law practice, and I'm constantly busy with suits and paperwork. And then there's my wife, who constantly demands help with the children in the rare moments I’m home. This all leaves me with no time for myself. That is why I bought the Perpetual Stopwatch—to give myself a small break every here and there."

           Robert shot a quick glance backward at Jerry. "You're definitely past the point of 'small break.'"

           Jerry responded with a knowing nod. "I know, I know. But that's how I used it, initially. At first, I would use it after work to take a walk throughout the city or get a drink. That satisfied me for a time. But, one day, as I was walking home after work, it hit me—if I stopped time and trekked to the other side of the country and back, my wife and kids would be none the wiser. As I said before, it has always been my dream to travel across the country. With work and my family's needs in mind, I couldn't do it any other way. So I decided to go for it."

           "Just like that?"

           Jerry nodded. "Just like that."

           "How do you eat?"

           "Every time I pass through a town," Jerry explained, "I stop at some supermarket and raid the food they've thrown out. Most of the food is still good. Food never goes bad by its sell-by date. Plus, since the forces of entropy are currently stopped, the food won’t go bad during my trip."

           Robert's tone betrayed a touch of admiration. "Very smart, Jerry. Very smart. I like the way you think."

Robert's pace slowed. The two approached a small manufactured home drenched in baby-blue paint. It was a little run down and beat up, but much nicer than what Jerry expected in a small town in the middle of Arizona.

Robert opened the front door and gestured for Jerry to enter. "After you."

Jerry crossed through the threshold and began to examine the home's interior. But before he could get a good look at his temporary abode, he felt a sharp pain at the back of his head. Immediately, Jerry's vision became blurry. The objects in the home melded into one incoherent mess of color.

Jerry felt a force press against his back. It wasn't strong but, in his dazed and disoriented condition, it was sufficient enough to drive him to the floor. After he landed, he felt harsh hands turn him over, circle his neck, and squeeze.

Despite his confusion, Jerry could make out the figure of Robert above him. The man's face was twisted and gnarled in a look of fury. He grunted as he continued to tighten his grip around Jerry's neck.

Jerry's heart raced. He reached towards his neck and, with stiff, spasming fingers, tried to pry Robert's hands away. His legs moved franticly. Though the motion was weak, he pressed his knee into Robert's ribs. He repeated the motion over and over. As he did, Robert's expression changed—first to a look of increased anger, then to an ugly grimace of pain and desperation.

Jerry gained confidence. The motions of his leg became stronger and more forceful. He kept pounding and pounding his knee into Robert's torso until a horrifying and resonant "snap" echoed in the room.

At this, Robert's grip weakened. With a pitiful groan, he flopped off Jerry's body.

           Jerry's muscles ached as he pushed himself up. He stood with his head in his hands. The room spun around him and his stance was unsteady. He took deep breaths as he waited for the effects of Robert's sudden assault to wear off.

           Finally, his vision cleared and the room ceased to sway. Immediately, Jerry turned towards Robert. The man lay in a fetal position on the floor, clutching the right side of his chest.

           "What the hell was that for?"

           With a trembling arm, Robert brandished his Stopwatch. A large crack tarnished the smooth, glass surface of its face, a feature Jerry missed when he first met the man. "My Stopwatch broke—" Robert's speech was interrupted by a wet, gargled cough. Blood splattered on the floor beneath the man's lips. "I'm stuck here. And I need your watch to make time flow again."

           "You didn't need to attack me! Why didn't just grab an unused one? I am sure there are few around here."

           Robert shook his head weakly. "I tried. It doesn't work. I'm pretty sure that I need one calibrated to the specific time I activated mine. That's why I tried to take yours."

           Jerry was unsympathetic in his response. "Well, sorry—I plan on returning home someday. I have a wife and kids to return to."

           Robert hacked out a mocking laugh. "Ha! A wife and kids you ran away from to live out some crazy dream. You're so ungrateful for what you have! Do you know why I stopped time? It was my kid's birthday. I wanted to surprise him. I told him I had a special gift for him. I then activated my Stopwatch and went about decorating the home and setting up the presents. The effect would have been marvelous and mind-blowing to a six-year-old."

Robert coughed again. Like the last, it was accompanied by an outpouring of blood, this one much greater than the last. "But I tripped and broke the watch. It broke so easily! No wonder the damn things are illegal." Robert's voice began to break into sobs. The blood on his lips began to mix with a flurry of tears. "I wish I never bought it. Now I'm stuck here forever."

Struck by curiosity, Jerry went deeper into the home. He traveled the short maze of hallways and corridors until he reached the kitchen. In it, stood a plump, curly-haired woman with rosy cheeks and a permanent smile plastered on her face. Beside her was a boy suspended mid-jump. His beaming smile and wide, frantic eyes betrayed a feeling of elation and excitement.

A pit grew in Jerry's stomach. His mind scrambled for a solution.

Perhaps I can give him mine. Just long enough for him to return to normal time, he thought. Then I could take it back.

But science wasn't on his side. As soon as Robert put on Jerry's Perpetual Stopwatch, he would disappear and return to the normal time-flow. Since Jerry was stuck in this particular moment in time, he would never be able to retrieve it. Robert's perception of time would move him forward. He would never be able to return back to the moment in which they now lingered.

Jerry continued to ponder. But, to his everlasting regret, an optimal solution to the problem eluded him.

*    *    *

           Jerry looked at the hovercraft floating in place above him as he trekked away from the town. They were the same exact craft he saw just this morning. He was headed back the way he came, back to San Francisco. He had lost the stomach for travel.

           In his hand, he held a sealed envelope. The note within was written by Robert. When he returned home and re-entered the normal passing of time, he would send it anonymously to Robert's wife and child. The second Jerry entered real-time in San Francisco, the image of Robert would vanish from their view. The feelings of joy they had now would morph into memories of terror and confusion. Though it might not provide much solace, they deserved to know what happened to their husband and father.

           As he walked, Jerry's thoughts were occupied with thoughts of his family. Seeing Robert's sobs made him miss them more than he ever thought he could. The farther his return trip took him, the more foolish he felt for leaving them, for not realizing what he had. He tried to recall their faces. It had been so long since he last saw them that they were hard to remember. Though the image was blurred by forgetfulness, he was filled with an invigorating dose of energy as he recalled his wife’s shining visage. Each time he recollected one of his children's smiles, his steps grew quicker, his stride longer. He couldn't get home fast enough.

I'll be there soon, he thought with a smile. You are, after all, only a day's-long journey away.