The chrome sphere’s levers twisted and spun. It was nearly sixteen years in the making. A secret commission of scientists and leaders who wanted to change the status quo designed it. The device would do it. The only problem was that it didn’t work the way they had expected.
It would have, if not for the other thing. That made all the difference.
August 7th, 2021:
Day 5.
After dusk.
Quinn thought about Jeremy and the conversation they had the first time on August 16th. Quinn had more information this time. Jeremy just might believe him.
Chapter 8
August 16th, 1999:
Day 2.
Quinn squinted as the sun’s summer rays glared through the sliver in his curtains. He inspected the clock, his hands, and the mattress before he threw on his clothes and biked over to Jeremy’s place.
Quinn filled Jeremy in on the details of his trip back to the future and what had happened last time on August 16th. The 17th hadn’t arrived, so Jeremy didn’t get to see the earthquake for proof. He listened to Quinn, and then let loose.
“C’mon. Not good enough. If you really went back to the future, prove it right now.”
Quinn thought for a second.
“It’s not like there’s a list somewhere of what happens every second of every day, so you’re just going to have to wait ‘til 4:30.”
“What happens at 4:30?”
“The stock market’s going to close at exactly 11,046.79. I doubt I did anything big enough in the last few hours to change that, so let’s see if I’m right.”
“Fine. So, what’s the plan now?”
The clasp of the Wall Street gavel alerted them to the market’s closing bell. The ticker tape read 11,051.12.
“I knew it. You’re wrong. You’re so full of it.”
“Look again. It takes a minute for the last few transactions to settle and the market numbers to complete.”
The closing average read 11,047.11. A few seconds later, 11,046.79.
“Told you. Now, what are the odds that I’d be able to tell you the exact close of the Dow, down to the very penny?”
“It could still be a trick. Just not sure how you did it.”
“It’s not a trick, but you’ll believe me tomorrow when the 7.6 earthquake hits Turkey and kills tens of thousands of people. It’ll cause a seven-foot tsunami that kills another 155 people.”
Jeremy’s cheeks flushed, and his eyes widened.
August 17th, 1999:
Day 1.
Quinn woke up to a loud commotion in the living room.
Jeremy squeezed his way in after Quinn’s mom opened the door. He rushed into Quinn’s room and knocked him out of bed.
“Did you see the news this morning? You were right. I can’t believe it.”
“Come on, man, it’s too early for this.”
“You know what this means?”
Quinn’s mom trotted in behind Jeremy. “What’s all this commotion about, boys?”
“Jeremy’s just being a goofball.”
“Just make sure you’re not late for your first day of high school.”
“This is going to be awe...some,” Jeremy said once she shut the door.
Quinn smiled.
Jeremy’s heart pounded. He jumped up and down a couple times before he sat down and caught his breath.
“We still have things to learn. It’s not all going to be fun and games.”
“I get that, but still…This is unbelievable.”
“Just calm down a bit and take your advice from yesterday. We don’t want to draw too much attention to ourselves until I discover how to fix things in the future.”
“You did that already, didn’t you?”
“Almost. In case you forgot, I still got arrested. I need to find a way to save Logan and not get arrested, or die, for that matter.”
“Can’t you just let me revel in the moment for a bit? My best friend is a time traveler. Oh, yeah. I can’t believe I just said that. And you know about that list you mentioned, the one that tells you what’s going to happen every second of every single day?”
“Yeah?”
“You should make one.”
For the next hour, Jeremy spouted every time travel fantasy that popped into his head. It annoyed Quinn on the surface, but he wanted to do at least half the things Jeremy mentioned.
After they arrived at school, Quinn looked over his schedule, and they went their separate ways.
Quinn was a convincing ninth-grader, given that he had forgotten most names and the location of his classes, the first one being English.
Quinn always hated how time travel movies showed people remembering everything from their past. Quinn had trouble remembering things from last week, let alone a couple of decades.
The room was sterile and uninspiring. He sat down in the second-to-last row, right next to her.
Quinn fell into his default staring mode and gazed out the window, or at least pretended to.
“Hi. I’m Cameron.”
“Quinn,” he replied as he held out his hand.
Cameron chuckled, then gave him a firm handshake. She wore her new first-day-of-school clothes. Her auburn hair hung in a ponytail, and even in a pink cardigan and jeans made her appear as angelic as ever. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Quinn.”
“He means Doormat,” Scott said. “You should probably wash your hands. I saw Doormat digging in his butt after he hopped off his tricycle in the courtyard.”
Scott chewed on a toothpick. He looked different, better. He was thinner but looked more like a senior than a freshman.
“Some things never change. Do they, Mr. Channing? What’s up with the shades, anyway?”
“Shut your hole, Doormat. And how do you know my last name? Are you some kind of queer perv?”
The one thing Quinn didn’t do was waste hours thinking about a witty comeback to Scott’s juvenile and cheesy insults, but he almost wished he had, perhaps in the next time loop—if he had the time. “I’m not a perv,” was all he could muster.
“So you admit you’re a queer?”
“Dude, you’re a bully, and everything you say is total bunk.”
“You’re a…”
The teacher walked in and interrupted. Quinn kept his eyes forward, but let his mind wander and play out dozens of scenarios. Quinn thought about how many times he used to think about high school, especially when he was in college. It used to matter, but as he grew older, it mattered less and less.
The trivial events in high school were just that, trivial. But he couldn’t help feeling that logic flew out the window when you were stuck in a square cage with a couple dozen infantile knuckleheads and an education system designed to produce drones instead of free thinkers.
Jeremy had grasped that concept long before Quinn, but the reality of human psychology affected Quinn at the moment. You become like the sum of the people you hang around, and at that moment, most of those people were morons.
Before long, it was lunch.
“Oh my god,” Quinn said.
“What is it? What’s happened?”
“I’d forgotten about these horrid pizza squares. The orange welfare cheese is the worst.”
“Did they ever prove the cafeteria was serving horse meat?” Jeremy asked.