Solar FlashOut

Benjamin Jensen sat in the middle of the woods. The snow silently fell around him, and on him for that matter. He had a cup of coffee with some whiskey added for flavor. The January campout was going well, and he volunteered to stay at the site and keep the fire going. The temp was warm and toasty at zero degrees. However, he was adequately dressed and properly fed, and with his beverage, he was happy.

As he looked into the forest behind the campsite, he saw fog. “Snow fog, interesting.”

He stood and dropped more wood on the fire so it stayed warm and put out a little heat.

He saw the embers would catch the new wood in a few minutes and turned to return to his comfortable camp chair, but a flash of light made him stop and stare.

A man appeared in the woods, dressed like he was at a tropical beach. The man looked disoriented as he looked at his surroundings. The visitor saw the fire growing and made his way toward Benjamin. He stood near the fire, “Damn. This feels good. I love a good campfire.”

Benjamin removed the hood from his winter coat and pulled down his scarf. The visitor looked at him, shocked, “Oh, crap! That was not supposed to happen.”

A moment of clarity. The visitor was a somewhat older version of Benjamin.

“Wait? What?”

The visitor grabbed a camp blanket on the next chair and wrapped himself in it. He smiled, “Wait. That’s a camp latte, as we call them, with whiskey. Can I get one of those?”

The camp latte is just instant coffee, vanilla powder, and powdered creamer in a cup and hot water to make a coffee. Benjamin pulled the flask from his outside top jacket pocket and gave a few glugs into the cup. He handed it to the visitor.

Taking a sit, “Been a lot of years since I had one of these. Thanks. It’s perfect!”

Benjamin finally came to grips with the fact he was sitting at the fire with himself. He finished his coffee and replaced the contents with the liquid in the flask.

The other guy said, “You should take it easy on that.”

He stopped mid-sip, setting the cup in the holder in the arm of the chair.

“I must be asleep, dreaming. That’s it. I’m dreaming.”

“Nope! I’m real, and I’m here.”

“Why? How?”

“Well, there will be an accident about twenty years from now. I, well, you, will be blasted by an odd form of radiation. A meteorite’ll hit you.”

He pulled his blanket and shirt off to show a spot on his shoulder, “When the solar energy builds early in the morning and fills me up, I go somewhere else. I can stop it by staying in the shade or the house, but when I’m ready to go somewhere, I stand in the sun and travel. What’s the date?”

Benjamin looked at his watch; his brain was fried. He said, “January 18, 2025,” then added, “5 PM,” and his watch beeped.

“I remember that sound. That’s the Samsung watch you got when you got that Fold 6 phone. Still one of my favorites.”

They sat silent for a few minutes. 

“I remember this campout. You are here camping with a couple of other adults working on a building or something,” He saw three tents set up, “That’s right. They both had to run home. News flash: neither is coming back, but they will call you and ask you to pack up for them in a few hours. One of their wives is getting knee surgery, and the other needs to run to college to help their son. They will stop at your place on Tuesday evening and grab their gear from your garage. By the way, you must be packed up by 11:15 AM tomorrow.”

“Why?”

“Because, my younger self, that’s when the storm hits. Huge wind, torrential rain, lightning, and, let’s call it unpleasant. Thankfully, I was mostly packed when it hit. I got their gear packed up and in the car. Mine, well, I did a scoop and dump. Cleaned it up when I got home, though.”

“Storm?”

“Yep. Big one. The camp ranger will call you on the radio at 10:40 AM to tell you to get out of here.”

Benjamin thought for a minute. Staring at the flames in the fire, the sun was getting low and night was setting in. His phone rang.

“Hello? Hi, Rusty.”

“Sure. I’ll pack it all up and bring it home. You can drop by and get it from the house this week.”

“Sure. Tuesday will be fine.”

He hung up and received a text.

“Just got nearly the same text from Tony. Same thing. Pack up his gear, and he’ll come by on Tuesday after work to get it.”

“WOW!” the newcomer said, “I must be from the future of something.”

Benjamin shook his head, “Any insight or words of wisdom you can impart to me?”

The old guy smiled. Standing, he dropped the blanket on the chair. Reaching into his pocket, he handed him a sheet of paper. It had a bunch of numbers and dates on it. 

Benjamin looked at it a moment, “Winning lottery numbers?”

“Yup. The date is the draw date on that number. Pick one, and only one.”

“What can I do with the rest?”

“You got friends, right? Give them away. But make certain they know nothing about where the number came from.”

“What’s the number next to the date?”

“The cash payout.”

“Nice!”

Benjamin read the dates and amounts. He grinned. "It looks like this PowerBall is tonight, a few hours from now. No way for me to get a ticket.” He snapped his fingers.

Pulling out his phone, he dialed.

“Hi, sis. You got a few minutes.”

“I do. Why do you ask?” She was on speaker.

“There is a PowerBall tonight for which you need to buy a ticket. Use the number I am texting you and buy a ticket.”

“Really. What, did you have a visitor from the future to tell you the winning numbers?”

“Something like that. It’s $2; if you lose, I will send you $3. No one can ever know I gave you these numbers.”

“OK, what are they.”

Benjamin texted the numbers.

“OK, got them. I’ll let you know when I got the ticket.”

“Actually, take a picture of it and text it to me.”

“OK. Bye.”

“Why did you give that to your sister? You could have been set for life.”

“Well, it’s Powerball, so it crosses state lines. It is 182 million in cash value, so she and her family will be set for life. In 8 days, there is a megamillion, that is 369 million I’ll pick for me. Share it with my kids so they can start a life, and the wifey and I can finally retire.”

The visitor looked at him, “With no more worries.”

“Yup, with no more worries.”

“What about the other three?”

“I know who is getting two of them, but the last one, the 100 million, is half a year from now.”

“WHO?”

A friend in Columbus is getting the 246 million, and a friend in Wake Forest is getting 243 million. As for the third one, my son has four friends. Suppose they split 140 million three ways. That’s like 35 million each. I can change 23 lives with these five winning numbers.”

“When is yours?”

“First draw in February.”

“My wife wants to move to Florida; I would rather stay here.”

“You’ll stay here. Trust me.”

Benjamin put the paper in a zipper pocket after taking a picture of it and saving it to the cloud. He poured his flask into a pair of cups and handed himself a cup.

“What are we drinking to?” The older version asked.

“To knowing the future and using it to change the lives of people you love.”

They touched the cups and sipped.

The old guy said, “Been a long time since I have had Macallan scotch, perfect end to a day.”

“I guess you can stay in that tent for the night and help me in the morning for a few hours. Then recharge yourself and blip out.”

“Sounds like a plan.” He went to the tent and found a coat. “Nice coat. I wish I had better pants, but this is good. 

Benjamin tossed him a pair of pants, and he slipped them over his shorts. 

“Found some freeze-dried dinners in there, too. I’m hungry."

Benjamin put a pot on the fire. It took half an hour, but hot was what they needed.

“WhaChaGot?”

“Family-size Beef Stroganoff, you?”

“Single size Beef Stroganoff. I say we make and split it 50/50.”

“Good thought.”

Benjamin walked to his car and opened the back end, grabbing a few water bottles. He handed a couple of them to his older self and a packet of Black Cherry Propel. 

“I have not had one of these in a while. Thanks!”

Twenty minutes later, they ate. Benjamin pulled some out of the larger pack, and they ate well. It was nearly 8 PM when they finished dinner, and they sat and talked till midnight.

Before his older self entered his friend’s tent, they took down Tony's unused tent and packed it all up nicely and neatly. Putting it all in his car, he returned to the fire.

“Anything else you can tell me about the future? I already know one major thing: I will live for at least the next 25 years.”

“True. Let’s see. I know.”

He told him the future for the subsequent few presidents, the lunar missions, and the Mars mission—the volcano that erupts and the next rendition of cars traveling the highways and byways.

At 11 PM, they decided to sleep and went into their tents. All snuggled comfy in their bags, the older version yelled, “GOOD NIGHT YOUNGER ME?”

“Goodnight, OLDER me.”

~~~~~~~~~~

As the sun rose, Benjamin woke and started the fire and the coffee. It was a bit cloudy, but according to the forecast, the sky would clear around 10 AM for a few minutes. 

He got breakfast ready: eggs, bacon, hashbrowns, and grits. If this guy were him, it would be the perfect breakfast.

The old sleeper awoke as the smell of bacon permeated the air, and he exited the tent. He had on his friend’s clothes. They sorta fit. But he was more comfortable.

“Your friend had a Merino wool base layer in his bag. I slept in them. I was comfy. I’m still wearing them too. And his coat and his extra boots. He brought a lot of clothes for a weekend.”

“I tell him that all the time. You hungry?” The visitor nodded.

They ate and talked about nothing specific—more about the future of Earth than anything else. Together, they cleaned everything up and packed the car so nothing was left to do at the campsite. They headed to the reason he was there: antenna maintenance on the radio system at the camp.

A few hours later, the maintenance on the building and the antennas was done, and the clouds broke. Old Ben removed all the clothes and stood there freezing. He looked at his watch, 10:30 AM.

“OK, this is how it works.”

He walked out into the sun and started glowing a few minutes later.

“Here I go. It was nice sharing a campsite with you. Good luck in the fu….”

He was gone.

“Ben, this is Tommy. You there?”

“I’m here, what’s up?”

“There’s a fast-moving storm rolling in, and you have maybe an hour to pack up before everything gets drenched.”

“No problem. I’m all packed up, the site is clean, and the antenna maintenance is all finished. Locking up the building now and heading out.”

“Excellent! Thanks for the volunteer hours. It makes my life easier with people like you.”

“My pleasure. Consider this notification: the Red Oak campsite is packed and put away, the STEM building is secure and locked, the cables and antennas are properly secured and ready for the summer camp classes, and I am heading out to the house before this storm hits.”

“Wonderful. Thanks. Have a safe drive, and see you next month on the third weekend.”

“I’ll be here. Working int he dining hall, of course.” 

After he let go of the push to talk, he said, “But by then, I’ll have a ton of money, and we can talk about what you need at this Scout camp.”

The radio was silent, and he ensured the STEM building was locked up. Climbing into his Sorento, he started the car and headed home. Knowing he would no longer have any worries in a couple of weeks.