Their grandparent’s death crushed Quinn too, more than his family knew. He just hid it better in front of them.
“Just a little something to show my appreciation. I know you’ve wanted this since sixth grade,” Quinn’s dad said.
Quinn smiled, “What did Mom say?”
“It was her idea,” Kathy said, speaking in third person as she walked in behind Amy.
Quinn hugged her. “Thanks, Mom.”
Her face lit up. She looked younger and prettier than Quinn remembered.
“Can I take it for a spin?”
“Why not?” Quinn’s dad said.
Quinn ripped off the bow, jumped on the pedals, and sped over to Jeremy’s. His Chuck Taylor Converse became a blurry mixture of white and blue the faster he pedaled. He forgot all about helping his dad with the groceries just like he did when he was a real kid.
All Quinn could think about was seeking Jeremy’s advice. Even at fourteen, Jeremy would have answers. He was comfortable in his own skin, a typical boy who only bathed if he stunk. He didn’t really care what anyone thought about his clothes, but still managed to outshine Quinn’s style, even with Jeremy’s poverty-stricken sense of fashion. And they complemented each other in more ways than anyone knew.
Quinn neared Jeremy’s house. Quinn eyed his front porch, half a block away. Quinn remembered the house after it was painted white with blue trim the following summer. At this point in time, the house had white chipping paint, and the screen door squeaked and slammed loudly when the boys ran in and out of it.
Adrenaline rushed through Quinn’s veins.
“Jeremy!” Quinn said.
The screen door slammed behind Jeremy, who hadn’t changed much since Quinn had seen him last, just shorter and stubble-free. Jeremy had his summer buzz-cut, which made his auburn hair look less red than it really was.
Jeremy smiled. “Sweet bike.” Jeremy caressed the frame and glided his fingers across its chassis.
“Screw the bike. Just wait ‘til you hear my story. You’re gonna wanna sit down for this.” Quinn spent the next half-hour explaining what had happened from the moment time began repeating until he woke that morning. He didn’t have to wait long for Jeremy’s reaction.
“You’ve watched one too many time travel movies, bro. Which one was it? Back to the Future? Groundhog Day? You’re like Robbie in that 80’s Tom Hanks movie, Mazes and Monsters when Robbie couldn’t tell the difference between the game and the real world.”
“This isn’t a joke. I’m serious.”
“Did you already fall off the bike and hit your head?”
“Have you ever known me to lie about something big like this for no good reason?” Quinn asked.
Jeremy paused. “What about the time you told me you went to play for a junior professional soccer league in Russia two summers ago?”
“I forgot about that,” Quinn said.
“So, this is two summers ago. What else is new? Now tell me, how’d you convince your parents to buy the BMX?”
“I’m not joking, Jeremy.”
“Just let me ride around the block already.”
“This is serious. I’m not sure if I’m stuck here, or if I can go back or what?”
“Fine, you want to play this game. Tell me about the future.”
Quinn thought about all the time travel movies and TV shows he had ever watched.
“What if I tell you something and it messes things up in the future?” Quinn asked.
“Well, it’s too late for that. You already told me you’re from the future, so I guess the damage is done. Now you can tell me the good stuff,” Jeremy said.
“No, seriously. What if I say something that causes me to die in the future, and then I don’t exist anymore?”
“Are you dumb? Paradoxes are stupid. You said that. They can’t exist. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be here. We have this conversation every time we see a time travel movie, and you always give the best answer. Remember?”
“Well, that was just an idea I was thinking about when I was a kid.”
“When you were a kid? Oh, right, you’re from the future. Listen, you just told me all this stuff that’s going to happen to you in this fake future of yours, so I already know a bunch of things. Plus, you couldn’t change anything when you were looping time… if you were looping time. What makes you think you can change anything now?”
“Well, that’s not exactly true. I could change some stuff, just not what I wanted to change.”
Jeremy sighed. “Are we really still having this conversation? Did you start smoking crack over the summer and forget to tell me about it? Should I call your parents? I know your grandparents just died and all. I didn’t want to bring that up. You might just be having some kind of brain fart,” Jeremy said.
“Just shut up and listen. This isn’t a joke. I’m not smoking crack, and I’m not going crazy. This isn’t a dream, and I’m really from the future.”
“Then prove it.”
Quinn rubbed his forehead. “Alright. How?”
“Dude, you’re the one from the future. You think you’d be smart enough to figure it out. Tell me something big, something cool, something I don’t know yet, that you couldn’t possibly know unless you were from the future.”
“There’s a ton of stuff, but most of that kind of thing won’t happen months or years from now, so it’s kind of hard. Let me think. What year is it? 1998?”
Jeremy rolled his eyes. “1999.”
“Okay, there’s a few big things that happened, but all those might change if I tell you, and they’re still a ways off.”
“Fine, what about earthquakes and stuff, or sports?”
“Earthquakes? Yeah. That’s a good one. I know there’s a huge earthquake that’s going to hit in a couple of years near Indonesia and cause a tidal wave that kills hundreds of thousands of people. I can’t think of anything closer. There was 9/11, but that’s….”
Just then, the reality of what might be happening punched Quinn in the face. He reflected on the iconic words: ‘With great power comes great responsibility.’ And yet, like all the superheroes who’d struggled with saving the most lives, Quinn knew he had his limits. Even if time travel had no rules, he couldn’t stop everything. He couldn’t control human nature, and he couldn’t be in two places at once.
“What’s 9/11?”
“I’ll tell you that one later, but give me a second. I think I might …. What day is it?”
Jeremy shook his head. “August 15th.”
“There’s going to be an earthquake in Turkey in a couple of days, the 17th I think.”
“And why do you remember that?”
“Thousands of people died. It was a seven-point something. I did a paper about it in ninth-grade Physical Science class.”
“Fine. Let’s say I go along with this story of yours for the next two days…”
Quinn interrupted, “I don’t know if I’m going to make it to the 17th. Before I came here, I kept looping on the same day. Maybe the same thing will happen here now.”
Quinn’s face turned ghost-white.