A Rusty Plaque

In memory of Phillip Robertson. Soldier, explorer, friend.

           Phillip Robertson didn’t know how long he had spent standing within the graveyard of his hometown, staring at the rusted plaque at the foot of an oak tree. The sun had risen from its slumber, traveled past the sky, and was now settling against the hills to rest before it made the journey all over again. The sun’s journey was constant, never straying from the path destiny had decided.

           The journey was almost like time in a way.

           When the government had first created the TV-37, or Time Vortex as he and the boys in the training department called the strange looking machine, every scientist and their mother dreamed of sending a man back in time in an attempt to make the world a better place. Plans were drafted and proposed to fix every past cruelty and travesty committed by man. A marksman was sent back to kill Adolf Hitler, two historians were sent to divert Archduke Franz Ferdinand’s car, every casualty that had ever happened had a trained soldier, scientist, or diplomat sent to stop it.

           None succeeded.

           Timothy Smith missed his shot, despite being the best marksman in the military, and was killed by returning fire from Adolf’s bodyguards. Elias and Emilia, twin historians from Austria with near perfect eyesight, somehow misread the signs and accidentally gave the archduke’s driver the very directions that would lead to Ferdinand’s death and were later arrested for their mistake. Richard, a famed ambassador with a silver tongue, was carted off by airport security as a raving madman on September 11, 2001. Billy, whose true name is buried under hundreds of documents and clearance levels, was sent to Siberia in 1925 after a failed assassination on the Soviet Union’s General Secretary, later dying of hypothermia.

           Every plan that was dreamed of, every command that was penned down, none of them mattered in the end. Time, like the sun’s rise and fall, could not be shifted by the feeble powers of man. No one could delay destiny, to even try was to court disaster and despair. That was why all excursions to the past were prohibited after the failure in Russia. There would be no more Billys, no more Richards, Tims, or Austrian twins lost to the currents of time. No, instead there would only be a fool named Phillip who volunteered because he was too curious about what the future had in store for him.

They had hoped that sending someone forward in time would have a better result than sending someone backwards. The scientists had hoped for Phillip to grab some future technology and bring it back so that they all could advance decades in mere moments. No-one had truly known what would happen to the curious soldier, least of all Phillip. For days he had asked himself if his fate would be different from the others, if he would be the first to succeed where so many other men and women had failed.

           Well, here was his answer. A rusty plaque with his name steadily fading. He would not be famed for being the first to return from a trip through time. No records would show that he opened his own business, started his own family, and built his perfect house. All of those dreams were little more than wisps of smoke. Here was his fate, a rusty plaque under a tree.

           Phillip couldn’t change his legacy any more than the dozens before him could. Though, at least they were brave enough to try. They had all made an attempt to return home, with all failing for some reason or another. Phillip pulled out his own way home, a bulky device of metal and wires covered in buttons and dials, and he stared at it for a few moments. What was he to do now that he knew that his device wouldn’t work? Was he supposed to put in the information and hope for the best? The end of that road laid at Phillip’s feet. The device would fail. The only question was how.

Would he be sent too far back and share a frozen cell with Billy? Would his body be torn apart by the powers of time, ripping him to shreds like a pack of wild dogs? So many what ifs, all more painful than the last and no less frightening, but what other choice did he have? He was 100 years past his original timeline. Phillip was barely able to find any information about himself, how was he supposed to learn enough of this time to stay here?

He laughed bitterly and shook his head. Damned if he did, damned if he didn’t. Phillip looked down at the device in his hands once more and began entering the return information. He wouldn’t survive this, he knew that in his bones, but at least he could die knowing that he made an attempt to return to his old life. At least, when they received the alert of his attempted return, he wouldn’t be remembered as a coward.

           “Excuse me sir, are you alright?” someone asked seconds before he pressed the final button, bearing a voice so soft that Phillip was almost sure he had disturbed a ghost. Instead, Phillip turned to his right to see a very corporal young woman with bright blond hair, large brown eyes, and wearing green coveralls with Thomas D. Michael Memorial Cemetery stitched onto the front pocket in intricate yellow letters. “Excuse me?” she repeated, her frown deepening with Phillip’s lack of an answer.

           “Sorry, yes, I’m fine, you don’t have to worry,” Phillip said in a rush of words, hoping to return to the task at hand.

           “Oh? Well you could have fooled me. I’ve been working at this graveyard for half a decade now and, from my experience, “fine” people don’t silently stare at memorial plaques for over twelve hours. I counted. They also don’t laugh like a crazy person after standing still for so long. So, seeing that you’re clearly not fine, are you a man lost to grief or a serial killer? There’s no in-between in this situation,” the woman said, digging her shovel to the ground before walking towards the tree and leaning on it.

           “For your information, I’m neither,” Phillip snarked, narrowing his eyes at the woman getting comfortable against his tree. It was a bit concerning that he felt so possessive of a tree marking his death, but hell, it was his. “What about you? You leaning against that tree is pretty disrespectful too. If that’s all it takes to be a serial killer, then you’re a pretty good contender. Did you bring that shovel to bury me?”

           The woman hummed, bringing a muddy and gloved finger to her chin before shrugging with a smirk, “I can’t say the thought didn’t cross my mind. Though, it’d be more of self-defense than premeditated murder. I mean, I’m the only one working right now, who else is going to deal with the Silent Griever. That’s your serial killer name by the way, I can’t be a famous bounty hunter if the killer I capture doesn’t have his own nickname.”

           “That’s a horrible name,” Phillip deadpanned, mentally comparing the pros and cons of just traveling back to his time now. No, better not. The time experiments were meant to be secret to the general public. He doubted that the secrecy would have changed following the failed experiments, the government could be quite touchy with reporting their failures.

           “You’re just angry that you didn’t get to come up with your own name. Fine, if you hate it so much then let’s hear your idea. Don’t be too ashamed when it’s not as great as mine. I can give you tips later if you want,” the woman said with a grin, shaking dirt off of her gloves.

           “My name is Phillip Robertson,” Phillip sighed, wanting to be rid of this woman. She was making it harder to concentrate on accepting his fate with her sarcasm and names. He was about to die; he didn’t want to be distracted by some stranger while coming to grips with that.

           “Can’t give you any points on creativity. Honestly, did you just pick out the first name you saw? So unoriginal,” the woman said, before narrowing her eyes at Phillip. “Wait, you’re serious? I mean, that’s kind of weird but staring at the memorial of a local hero is hardly reason enough to be creepy.”

           Phillip scoffed and decided to turn away from the woman. Creepy? What did she know? Even she, with her graveyard job, has probably had more of an impact on other peoples’ lives than Phillip would ever have. He had done nothing more than fail. Poor, anti-social, curious Phillip, a man who had made few friends and even fewer impacts with nothing more than a rusted piece of metal and classified documents revealing his contribution to societ-

           Wait, local what now?

           “I’m sorry, he’s a what?” Phillip asked, shooting his head back towards the woman with wide eyes.

           “He’s a local hero,” the woman said slowly, “Come on, really? You’re named after this man and standing at his memorial and you don’t even know what he did for all of us? No wonder you’ve been standing here for so long, you must feel so guilty.”

           “Hey, give me a break!” Phillip said, crossing his arms and feeling the blood rush to his cheeks. Honestly, how did he miss that information. “I’m not from around here you know. My dad named me after the guy and I wanted to learn more about him is all. I searched the library from top to bottom and somehow the local hero thing never came up. What else was I supposed to do?”

           “Um, I don’t know, check this shiny new thing called the internet? You may have heard of it. I admit, the concept is a bit niche but it’s been around for over a century now,” the woman said as seriously as she could before laughing so hard Phillip was worried she’d burst. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, but I my brain just caught up with your words. The library? Man, those things are ancient. Only the most thorough of historians use them anymore, and that’s more of a formality than anything.”

           Phillip had been wondering why the library was so deserted. Still, only a few dozen people used them anymore? That was a little depressing. Saving that thought for later, Phillip decided to get some sweet revenge on the woman laughing at his expense.

           “Who’s laughing now? Should I call the police and report a serial killer on the premises?” Phillip asked, pulling out his iPhone and hovering his fingers over the buttons. The woman’s eyes widened and her laughter tapered off before she approached Phillip with outstretched fingers and a gleam in her eyes, taking the phone before the trained soldier could react. He was almost as impressed as he was irritated.

           “Whoa man, where did you get this? These things haven’t been made in like seven decades. Not to mention ones this old. What are the specs on this thing? Does it still work? I didn’t think any of the phone lines were still up!” the woman rambled before stopping abruptly, turning her eyes towards Phillip and coughing. She silently handed the phone back to Phillip and walked back to the tree with the air of forced nonchalance, “Whatever, go ahead and see if you can call them. They may have kept the emergency lines open for old timers like you. Seriously, the library.”

           After she finished her newest batch of chuckles, the woman brushed her hair behind her right ear and revealed an earpiece of some kind. She pressed a button and Phillip stepped back as a blue holographic image that almost seemed like a search engine appeared a foot or so in front of her face. As if it were reading her mind, Phillip gaped as he saw his own name appear in the search bar seconds before dozens of articles, documents, and even an actor cast as him appeared on the screen.

           “Here, take a look,” the woman smiled, chuckling even more when Phillip jumped back after the screen rotated and approached him. “Don’t worry old man, it doesn’t bite.”

           Phillip would have grumbled something in response if it weren’t for the headlines he was reading on the page. “After 80 Years of Silence, the Government Releases Classified Documents on the Time Travels” stood beside “Phillip Robertson, the Man who Saved Time” and “Phillip Robertson, Coward or Hero?” Every headline that Phillip read made his heart swell that much more. He wasn’t forgotten! He wasn’t useless! Phillip Robertson had a legacy! His smile grew more and more as he felt tears welling up in his eyes the further he read.

           “Yea, I know, your namesake is pretty cool. They say that he was the last person to use the TV-37 and the only one that used it to travel into the future. Later tests showed that if he had returned to his time it would have destroyed our entire reality through the Butterfly Effect or something like that. You can’t change the past from the future but you can change the past of the future you travel to I guess. I don’t know, I was more interested in electronics than physics so it’s all a bit too confusing for me but the gist is that if he had returned from the future then the world as we know it wouldn’t have existed. I wouldn’t have gotten this job, my parents might not have even been born, who knows what technological advancements we would have missed out on in our search for scraps. We owe a lot to Phillip.”

           “I see, that’s… that’s good,” Phillip said with a shaky breath, rubbing at his eyes as the hologram drifted back into the woman’s earpiece.

           “Yea, don’t worry Time Traveler, you weren’t forgotten. Someone probably would have told you this easier if you hadn’t been standing around so long, but since no-one else seems to be around, I’ll say it. Thank you for your sacrifice, Phillip Robertson” the woman smiled, ignoring Phillip’s stuttering denials and patting the oak tree behind her. “I guess I might have to change this plaque soon. It’s a bit tacky to have something say “In Memory of” when the guy is standing right in front of it. No wonder you were freaked out,” she chuckled.

           “How did you know?” Phillip asked, wincing as the woman raised an unimpressed eyebrow. Thinking about it, he probably deserved that one.

           “Really? How did I know? Dude, you’ve been standing in front of your own “grave” for twelve hours, were holding some strange device when I walked up, went to the library for information, and showed me an iPhone like it was nothing. That’s not even mentioning the name and reaction to the information I gave you. One of these brainless corpses could probably rise up and call you out,” she said, gesturing to some of the graves.

           “Sorry, you have a point,” Phillip sighed, staring up at the sky with the smile still on his face. “Since you know about me, do you have any advice? Any quotes on my decisions in that article? I don’t know how to live in this time.”

           “I can give you some pointers. I wouldn’t worry too much though, there is all the evidence you need that something was able to keep you here,” the woman shrugged pointing towards the plaque. “How about I give you some pointers over supper? I’ve already wasted the last part of my shift talking to you.”

           “That’s fine, I’d love to,” Phillip said, surprised. He had never been invited somewhere by a stranger before. It felt… nice. “How does Richard’s sound? That was always my favorite place to eat growing up.”

           “Wow, you really are outdated. Seems it’s up to me to fix that. I’ve never given tips to a hero before,” the woman said with a grin before taking off a glove and reaching out her hand to shake Phillips. “I don’t think I ever introduced myself. The name is Hannah Corley, and I will be your wonderful, illustrious, fantastic guide to the future you saved.”   

           A guide to the future huh? Phillip grinned as he reached out and returned the handshake. Maybe living in this new time wouldn’t be so bad. After all, he never did figure out what would become of his life over the years. He had a legacy true, but he had no family, no house, no lasting effects on the world besides accidentally saving the timeline.

           Phillip was never one to let questions go unanswered. His time in the past was over, but he was still curious as to how his life would turn out. Maybe it was time to discover that himself.