When Time Stands Still

When Time Stands Still

Greg was one of “those” people. You know – the kind that never got anywhere on time. He was a wonderful person once you got to know him. But as he was late to every party, there wasn't always a lot of time left to talk before the host was closing the door.

His tardiness was well-known. How he ever kept a job often baffled everyone but he worked at the same job for over twenty years. Perhaps, if you're really good at what you do, when you show up to do it doesn't matter.

Greg met and married a wonderful woman. She seemed to understand him better than anyone; including his mother. When they were planning the wedding, she stressed over and over to Greg that the ceremony was to be held at one o'clock. “Remember, Honey. One o'clock. When the big hand is on the twelve and the little hand is on the one.” Greg said he would remember.

She knew him too well. They selected beautiful wedding invitations and she had a private conversation with the printer. The wedding time was three o'clock. Once the design was chose, Greg never looked at the invitations again. She knew that was how it would be. His mother provided a list of guests she would like invited and Greg addressed envelopes, dutifully. But he never read the invitation he put in the envelope.

Even so, Greg was ten minutes late to his own wedding.

His bride considered that a true triumph. It was the earliest Greg had ever been late for anything.

People consider folk like Greg inconsiderate, irrational, unkind – well, a lot of things. In truth, he just wasn't time oriented. He tried. The expensive watch he was given for college graduation quit working about three months after he put it on. Because he seldom looked at the watch, he didn't know that for an even longer time. Time just didn't seem important.

Until Greg got older.

One evening Greg said to his wife, “I do not understand what my problem with time truly is. You know that I try to be on time but it's like I get into a vacuum and time stands still. I think I have plenty of time; but by that thought, I am already late. I just don't know what to do. You get me to important things by lying to me. And I know that you're lying. You say one and it's actually three. Somehow I know any time you tell me when to be somewhere, that time has been exaggerated. Perhaps that slows me down. I know there's a window open for me to get somewhere on time. Honestly, I don't think I dawdle because I know the time's been stretched for my benefit. But, I never make your deadlines. No matter how hard I try.”

His wife sat still for a few minutes. “Greg, what if I told you the real time? What if the party at the Johanson's is really 9 not seven? Because it is, you know. Do you think that knowing the real time would help you be on time?”

Greg shook his head. “I don't know. But I'll try. So Saturday, I have to ready to go at nine?”

She nodded. “Yes, nine o'clock. As usual, I will leave with or without you at quarter after.”

By this point in his life, Greg knew he got to work on time because he never considered the time. He had a non-varying routine every morning. Get up, shower, dress, eat, get in the car and go to work. He never deviated and was always at work on time – whatever that time was. He didn't even know anymore when he actually began his work day. It was after he ate and got in the car.

The party at the Johanson's was two weeks out from this conversation. He tried to create a routine that would have him dressed and ready at a given time. Dinner was always at the same hour. What if??? And he tried to figure a schedule from dinner to party time.

It didn't work. After five days of trying to establish a routine, he gave up. There were too many things happening at home in the evening to make such a plan feasible. It didn't work; it couldn't work. He gave up. Then he asked his wife to tell him when it was eight o'clock. Knowing he had an hour to get ready should make him be on time. Shouldn't it?

Maybe it should, but it didn't. His wife left without him at nine fifteen. He showed up at the party an hour or so later – as usual.

As the days/weeks/months passed, Greg decided that he just wasn't a 'normal' person. Time meant little, if anything, to him. And never had. The world went on as usual if he was on time or not. His wife never discussed the matter. She loved him and knew before she married him that he was never on time. Big deal. It would be nice if he was there to hear the “I dos” at his friends' weddings. He was always there for the reception and his friends knew not to expect him before. It would really be great if he was there to hear the umpire say “Play ball.” In their many years of marriage, Greg never made it to the ballpark before the third inning. Except once when the second inning was exceptionally long.

Foe Greg's fiftieth birthday, his wife decided to have a surprise party for him. She told him friends were coming for dinner at seven. She no longer gave him a false time. Both knew it didn't help. He said he would definitely be there. It had been a while since guests had come for dinner.

His friends didn't expect Greg at seven. He was never on time. So a dozen people, most of whom he had grown up with, gathered to celebrate the milestone birthday. One would think that as this party was at his own home, he'd be there. But some Saturdays he volunteered at the Little League field and this was one of those Saturdays.

At seven his wife invited their friends to sit down to dinner. The cake and party would be on hold until Greg actually appeared. His tardiness was a long-standing joke.

At the ballpark, Greg repeated often to himself to leave at six. There was dinner at seven, with guests. Each time he glanced at the big clock over the scoreboard, it said five o'clock. It said five o'clock every time. Greg looked around him. It seemed as though time had come to a complete standstill. Nothing was moving. He walked through the dugouts and onto the field. No one was moving.

At long last, time had stopped for Greg. He went to the refreshment stand and helped himself to a soda. He walked to his car and decided, since time is not moving, I can check out the progress on that new building being constructed at the edge of town. He drove there and was delighted to be able to get up 'close and personal' to the site. No one seemed to notice him.

It was freest Greg had ever felt in his life. There was no time. Time had come to a standstill. He had two hours to get home. And, depending on how long time was not moving, he might have more. What a feeling! Free time meant something now. There were so many things he has wanted to do – but there had never been enough time.

Meanwhile, at Greg's home, his guests had a very fine birthday dinner. At ten they drank a toast to Greg as he turned fifty before they went home. The cake was not cut.

At midnight, Greg's wife called the local police department to report him missing. Greg was well-known and no one asked why she waited so long.

It was five years later that Greg showed up for his birthday party. He was surprised that no one was there when he came in. His wife came to see who had entered the house and fainted. Greg called 911. The operator kept saying, “Who do you say you are? Who?”

The authorities had quit actively searching for Greg after a couple years. When his wife revived she said to him, “Where in the hell have you been?"

Greg was totally surprised. According to the clock on the living room wall, it was seven o'clock. “What do you mean? You said seven. See? The clock says it's seven. What is your problem?”

The police, EMTs, neighbors and, in half an hour, several friends gathered at Greg's. They were amazed he was alive and well and looking fifty. He was amazed that they believed he was on time but five years late.

Greg's absence and whereabouts were never explained. But, strange as it seems, he was never late again.