How To Go Back in Time Book One: Chapter Eight

James fell asleep as soon we got in the car. He laid his head against the window and snored,
while a blonde lock of hair dangled in his mouth. The moon was bright tonight, a shimmering crescent.
And the stars weaved their patterns through the sky.
I took a right and barreled down this old strip of road at forty-five. Still being a little drunk, I
was driving like shit. Suddenly, I was back to being twenty years old and driving to the next town over
to get alcohol. You always needed an older friend for a party.
We passed the black train bridge and entered the backside of Birdland. I pulled over to the side
of the road and yawned. “We’re here.”
He blinked awake. “We’re here? O-Okay.” He felt around for the door handle and tumbled out. I
watched him walk up the steps and then stumble inside. James was home safe, but he’d be paying for it
in the morning. I never had the chance to give him the cure.
I headed out to my motel. And when I arrived, touching the doorknob sent chills down my
spine. Memories of that strange dream flashed in my head. It all felt too vivid, and it was way too easy
to recall. It seemed real. I entered and collapsed face-first into bed. Then I just kinda sat there trying to
go to sleep, but I couldn’t. I ended up getting stoned and watching television til three A.M..
Finally I did go to sleep and then my alarm went off five hours later. I flung open the bathroom
door and sat by the toilet until my stomach was good again. The problems were just getting worse.
Perhaps I should’ve cut down. I stayed in there until I felt alright to leave.
Then I went out on the porch with a cigarette, and my cure. The sun was out and the morning
was perfectly cool. On a red bike, a kid passed by and I watched him.
* * *
THE PAST
Somewhere deep in the Seattle suburbs, there sits a house. It’s two stories and painted a pale
yellow with white. It’s kind of dusty. One of the windows is cracked. Inside, there’s long hallways and
tall ceilings. Stare up at the dusty chandeliers for just one minute, and you’ll feel like you’re floating. It
was a lonely place.
Me and eight other kids lived there. I didn’t have any memories of my parents. The only
existence I knew were the other kids, and the nuns who took care of me. They’d cook us food and we’d
eat at the dining table. Mostly cheap and easy things.
Come Christmas morning, and we all sat under the tree. The presents were in alphabetical order
so I was always last. One of the nuns wheeled out a bike for me. It was pink, but I didn’t care.
“It’s a bike!” She said. “Don’t you like it?”
I nodded but didn’t smile. Didn’t feel a lot, actually.
“Why don’t you take it for a ride?”
I hopped on and began pedaling. I couldn’t really figure out how to steer it so I ended up
running straight into a wall. Then the nuns told me to take it outside. Brilliant decision.
I went out the door, down the grassy concrete path, and out the front gate. I had memorized the
surrounding area from the nuns loading us into a van, and taking us to all the parks. Sometimes it was
the pool just down the street. Other times it was the basketball court in the projects.
I pedaled down the street and through a dusty tunnel which took you to the highway. I came out
of it expecting hundreds of cars to appear and I’d be scared and just turn around. Surprisingly enough,
there wasn’t much as my kid brain thought.
It was still scary though. All the cars zooming by and looking at this eight-year-old kid on the
shoulder of the road. Any time a semi-truck would pass, I’d close my eyes and start praying. Those
things are scary at that age.
I kept pedaling and pedaling. I passed a few highway signs, and made it a few miles down the
road. By that time, the sun was setting, and I was sweating and tired. So I got off the bike and sat on the
asphalt, watching the sunset.
More cars passed, and I heard sirens. A sheriff’s vehicle pulled up next to me, and a deputy
stepped out. “Hey kid! We’ve been looking for you!”
“Me?”
“Yes. We’re gonna take you back home, okay?”
He picked me up and placed the bike in the trunk. Then he put me in the backseat and drove me
to the orphanage.

AND NOW, BACK TO THE PRESENT
Just as I was about to go back inside, a police car suddenly showed up. It was Rosa. She stuck
her head out the window and waved to me. “Paul wants us at the station!” She said.
I set my drink down got up to the car. “Why? What’s wrong?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know, but it sounded urgent.”
I grimaced and walked around the car to the passenger door. “This is insane. The case should be
over.” I said, buckling myself in. “There’s not another victim, is there?”
“No, I don’t think so. We’d be heading out to somewhere else instead of the station if that was
the case.”
“You’re right. But still, I don’t like this.”
“And neither does anyone else, Irwin.”
They pulled into the police station, and Irwin held the door open for Rosa. Paul was in his
office, arguing with James. The door was closed, so all that could be heard was muffled yells.
Irwin walked through and cleared his throat. “So, what’s going on here?”
Paul’s body suddenly fell, and he turned to Irwin. “Justin’s gone.”
“…What do you mean?”
“I mean, he’s gone. I came to the station this morning, and he wasn’t in his cell.”
“Did you check the security footage?” Rosa said, stepping forward.
James shook his head and spoke, “He didn’t appear on the footage—must’ve fucked with the
cameras.”
“I know where he went!” I suddenly said. “He went on the only road out of town, to the gas
station.”
Paul sat down and buried his head in his arms. “Alright.” He said with a gasp. “Go and find
him.”
Rosa and I stormed out of the station, and into the car. The gas station was just three miles away
perched on the side of the highway. “I just don’t get it.” I said. “How’d he get out?”
“I don’t know either, Irwin. We had our guy, we caught him, and now he’s just turned up
missing.”
I bit my lip and leaned back in my seat. “We need to put out an APB—or, something. This guy’s
on the run now.”
“Paul won’t do that, he wants to keep it quiet.”
“That’s dumb.” I scoffed. “Let’s not tell the world there’s a murderer on the run—brilliant.”
“You’re stressed.”
My eyes shifted, and I took a deep breath. “Yeah, I am.
We made it around the corner, and past the water towers. We went down the hill and forked a
left. Up ahead, was the gas station. Two rusted gas pumps that barely worked, and a shoddy mini mart
with rotten food. Perhaps someone had seen Justin pass by.
She parked in the front and ran inside to speak to the cashier. I got out of the car started walking
to the back. As I turned the corner, it seemed the air had shifted. There was an electricity out here. It ran
up my body and gave me goosebumps. I shivered.
I looked down at the ground, and then back up at the sky. It had suddenly turned dark with
clouds. From it, a loud rumbling occurred. And though everything in my body told me not to continue,
I decided to press forward.
It started with a few rain drops. And then in a matter of seconds it started pouring. I rounded the
other corner, slowly. And on the ground was Justin, bleeding from a wound in his head. There was a
gun next to him.
It had stopped raining