Join the Adventure ...
From the time Michael was in high school, he captivated his sister Allie with imaginary exotic travel stories. Now when he calls from college, she loves to hear his embellished tales of adventurous weekends. When he last phoned, he suggested he get a temporary job and spend his summer break at her place. She couldn’t wait. That same night they made flight reservations—a month in advance. Allie mailed her brother a spare key to her apartment and fixed a place for him to sleep in her home office.
The month passed quickly. The day before Michael’s arrival, Allie called him. She had to work through the night and couldn’t pick him up at the airport. When he didn’t answer his cell, she left him a message to take a taxi. There would be money on the counter for him, she added.
Michael arrived at his sister’s apartment early the next morning with a slight hangover from the night before. Dropping his bags in the living room, he made his way to the kitchen where he found on the counter some cash, an advertisement, and a note from Allie. “I found the perfect job for you,” it stated, “but you have to apply this morning!” Curious, he took a bottle of water from the refrigerator, then picked up the ad and looked at it.
Time 2 Go Travels was practically right around the corner from Allie’s, according to a small map she had drawn him. Sipping his water, he considered the brief description. The position sounded easy enough, and they obviously needed a writer. He was sure he could convince them of his abilities. He wondered if they might even pay him to go on special trips and report on thrill-seeking ventures. “Why not check it out?” Michael mused to himself. Quickly he jumped in the shower, renewed his senses, and dressed in the closest thing he had to professional casual.
Allie’s directions were easy to follow. The agency was tucked into a row of townhouses in a quaint business district. Michael stood in front of the building, looking down at the ad one more time before climbing the few steps. Just as he reached for the handle, the door opened. Immediately inside the threshold, two men stood talking, clearly in the process of wrapping up a conversation. The first, dressed in an expensive suit and tie, looked like a banker. The other wore attire that is more casual. Assuming the better-dressed man was whom he had come to see, Michael was startled to hear him thank the casually dressed man for his time and add, “I hope I can produce results for you.” The pair cordially shook hands as Michael stepped out of the way.
Before Michael could turn again for the door, he noticed a lovely, restless woman standing beside him. Spotting an opening in the conversation, she motioned for Michael to follow her as she skipped up the last step and through the doorway. Always ready to chase an attractive woman, Michael was quick on the brown-haired beauty’s heels. Once inside the hallway, she leaned around Michael and back towards the casually dressed man. “We’ll be in the library,” she said.
The woman walked Michael into the library. “I apologize for the rush,” she exclaimed, “but Mr. Walker is expecting a call and will have to leave directly afterwards. I’m Katherine.” She guided him to a comfortable chair by the desk. Michael detected a brief scent of vanilla as she passed and was quickly distracted when she turned and flashed a comforting smile. “Mr. Walker will be in shortly.” Before he could strike up a conversation with her, she was gone.
Moments later Michael could hear Katherine close to the doorway. She was talking to someone, but he couldn't make out what was being said. Katherine’s elevated voice, however, indicated urgency. As Michael waited patiently, he noticed a thick layer of dust around the end table next to him and drop cloths neatly folded to the side. He began to wonder precisely how long Mr. Walker had been in business. Had he and Katherine only just come into town?
At last, Mr. Walker casually wandered into the library. Introducing himself as the owner of Time 2 Go Travels, he thanked Michael for coming and motioned for him to sit down again. “Do you have any experience working in a travel agency or doing research?” queried Mr. Walker as he made his way behind the desk, placing his own chair to face Michael.
"This would be my first experience in the travel industry,” Michael ventured, “and I’m not sure what kind of research skills you require, the notice wasn’t very specific.” Mr. Walker looked down at the brief advertisement on the desk. “I confess that I don’t have much of a flare for writing. I probably could have been more descriptive. Precisely the reason I need good writers, I suppose,” he sighed.
Fearing he had perhaps made a bad impression by his frankness, Michael suddenly became uneasy. He had wanted to convey to Mr. Walker his complete willingness to try anything. Nervously, he cleared his throat and in a confident voice, blurted, “I’m a quick learner. I produced several research projects in college. It’s always been my dream that my writing would take me to new experiences and destinations.”
At this exclamation, Mr. Walker looked at him with a smile. “The stories you’d be writing are not—make no mistake—traditional vacation pieces for booking travel destinations.” Michael’s willingness pleased him despite that confused look–the same one he’d seen all morning on the faces of other applicants. He glanced at the doorway for a moment, thinking. Almost out of time, he looked back into Michael’s intriguingly familiar hazel eyes. “The job involves a rather unconventional writing assignment. It pays a large, negotiated sum if any one of twelve travelers should contact you.”
Michael felt his confusion growing. “But the ad said I’d be rewriting stories from existing papers,” he replied. "I thought that meant writing sales ads for travelers. If that’s not right, what exactly does ‘Rewrite stories from existing papers’ entail?”
The accommodating owner paused. “I’m interested in stories in time to which only certain individuals would know how to respond. I’d be giving you specific papers that would detail actions leading up to particular events in time. These documents would require research and interpretative skill.”
Michael interrupted with a laugh. “Are you talking about time travel?”
“Yes,” Walker grinned, “and the reward will indeed be generous if you can generate a story that achieves dialog with any of the twelve time travelers in the papers." Michael’s heart sank. He’d wasted his morning talking to a lunatic. Disappointed but still intrigued by Mr. Walker’s bizarre words, he decided to play along for a few more moments. "What can you tell me about the time periods?”
Walker happily began chattering about the measurement of time as a way of numbering the surrounding world and creating structure. Michael restricted himself to polite, periodic “mmhmms” and “un huhs” as Mr. Walker launched into a further narrative on the portrayal of time found in various works of art. These works, he continued, appeared to center around memory function, the ability to portray the present, and our ability to foresee the future. There seemed no end to the tangents the man’s strange mind could pursue. He next detailed the increasing lag in the general population’s emotional maturity and how middle age had shifted from twenty-five to forty.
Enough was enough. Rising from his chair, Michael had every intention of thanking Mr. Walker for his time and making a polite but hurried exit when the phone rang. The ring tone tugged vaguely at Michael’s memory, but he couldn’t, for the life of him, think why. Within seconds of picking up the phone, Walker’s face had lost all color.
In an instant, Michael found himself being shuffled out the door by Katherine. Handing him a leather bag overflowing with stacks of papers sorted into an array of colored folders, she hurriedly slid a business card inside the bag. “Don’t lose the card,” she urged. Just as the door was closing, she called out, “The bonus response is on the back of the card!”
~Julie R Newman
Visit 4tale.com in 2010 for the first tale of the 4tale series: "beginning of questions."
