If I could turn back the hands of time

“If I Could Turn Back the Hands of Time”

The body of the man I loved and married just a few hours ago was lying on the floor in front of me, lying on his side, clutching the wound that was now seeping blood through his fingers and onto the floor. There was a look of pain and shock on his face. Moving closer to the body, I willed him to get up! Suddenly, there were voices and loud banging at the door! Shoving the gun in my pocket, I ran out the side door and into the street.

It was New Year's Eve. The streets of Manhatten were full of lively partygoers. I felt like one of the zombies in the movie, "The Living Dead!" I walked, not seeing or hearing anything. In my mind, I kept repeating, like a broken record, " I can't believe this is happening, if only I could turn back the hands of time"

The night air chilled my bones, yet I kept walking! I walked through puddles of snow and ice. My hands and feet began to sting from the cold air and the wet snow. As I walked, I thought about what led up to my husband's murder and me the murderer! And, on the happiest day of my life.

At the reception and back at the hotel Harvey, my husband, consumed a great amount of alcohol. His mood went from cherry to cranky, and surly. With a drink in one hand and his face in the other, he explained that he had made a mistake!

"What do you mean you made a mistake?" I yelled at him.

"That's what I said. I don't love you, I am in love with the mother of my unborn child!" Harvey scowled at me. Between sobs, I asked, "Who is the mother of your unborn child?" I screamed. Feeling my blood pressure rising, I felt faint.

"No not now, can't you see I don't feel well!" He boomed at me and knocked down his drink.

"You don't feel well? I should be the one drinking!" I roared! We went back and forth like this for what seemed like hours. Both of us screaming at the top of our lungs. Then he shouted out,

"Do you really want to know who it is, do you? Well, I'll tell you, it's your baby sister. I love her, she loves me, and I don't love you!" I just stood there in shock and enraged. It felt like a ton of bricks just hit me in the stomach. I charged at him and he slapped me hard, then shoved me into the wall. I charged at him again, and in doing so, I grabbed the gun that he was required to wear at all times. Even when I protested for him not to wear it at the wedding, he insisted and did. All I heard were the loud shots ringing in my ear, and before I knew what was happening, I emptied the gun into his body.

After walking around for hours, I stopped in front of a quaint and inviting little coffee shop. A cup of coffee would clear my head, and maybe I could figure out what to do next. Should I become a fugitive from justice, and run for my life or turn myself in and get life?

The bell above the door announced my arrival. All the seats, including the bar stools at the counter, were empty. I sat at the counter and swirled around to survey the shop. There were bright red cushioned boothes, with red checkered tablecloths. A blinking neon light read "Coffee and Pie, 10 cents. Another sign on the door read, "Open 24 hours." A beautiful vintage jukebox was in the corner by the door. On the walls were Art Nouveau and vintage posters from the fifties. There were Iconic images of theaters, literature, and consumer products. I felt I had gone back in time!

I swirled back around and stared into the face of a red-haired man with freckles. He appeared out of thin air! On his head sat a white paper hat shaped like a boat. His white, slightly stained apron covered his thin body. Startled, I jumped!

"Sorry Miss, what can I get ya?" I couldn't speak, so I pointed to the coffee pot. "Cream and Sugar?" I nodded. "A piece of pie?" Again nodding. He bent down and placed the coffee cup on the counter with a napkin and a spoon. The thick, and steaming, liquid was poured into the cup, and he added the cream and sugar. The pie he placed in front of me looked delicious. I just stared at it. I couldn't eat or drink. All I thought of was my dead husband lying on the floor of our honeymoon suite.

"You're not eating your pie, Is there something wrong?" I took a forkful, and it was delicious. It was Mom's apple pie! I thought of Mommy, my damn baby sister, who I loved so much, and began to cry uncontrollably. I blurted out.

"I killed him, I shot him and he deserved it, But now I wish I could take it all back! If only I could turn back time, and I am running out of time, They'll be looking for me!" The tonearm in the jukebox chose a vinyl record and placed it on the turn table. “If I Could Turn back the Hands of Time,” by “The Paramounts,” poured out of the speaker.

I looked at my smartwatch. Something was wrong. It read eleven thirty am, January 31st, 2023, instead of eleven thirty pm, January 31st, 2023! I turned around to consult the guy behind the counter. He wasn’t there, nor was the coffee and pie. I realized time did go back in time, and I had enough time to confront Harvey and not marry the SOB.

I ran to the church. As I knew he would be there, I busted into the groom's quarters and shouted in front of his brothers and groomsmen.

“You SOB, you’ve been sleeping with my sister, and she’s pregnant!” I yelled. As the men began to vacate the room, snickering and whispering.

“I hate your sorry Ass! There will never be a wedding. I am so glad I saw the future!”

“But how did you know?” Calm now, I said,

“Let’s just say Mom’s apple pie, a nice man, and an Old Jukebox!” I walked out the door and went home to my cat!