chapter 15
TEAM 2, YEAR: 2016
Time Remaining: 185 Days
Owen turned into the motel parking lot where a massive rusting golf ball atop a faux-wood golf tee stood sentinel at the entrance. As he did so, it occurred to him that his eyes had never ventured beyond this rusty eyesore as he passed it each day on his way to and from work. Seeing the property up close, he noticed the little motel had a lot of character, but like the aging roadside attraction, it too showed signs of neglect. Owen cringed as his truck jostled violently as he drove across the cheese grater of a parking lot. The sign over the office door flickered, Fore S-asons—with the “e” burned out.
Inside the office, Finn helped himself to a seat in the waiting area on a floral, velour sofa and watched a staticky version of Jeopardy on an aged television set, ancient by even Owen’s standards. Before joining Riley at the counter, Owen adjusted the rabbit ears atop the TV and the picture cleared. Finn looked at Owen like he had performed magic.
Owen watched as the elderly couple behind the counter finished up with their current guest. The aged proprietors were short; each barely taller than five feet. He could not help but overhear the exchange between the couple and their colourful customer. Towering over the pair, Owen estimated the woman at the counter to be at least six-foot-four. While she possessed very prominent male facial features, she was dressed to kill with bright, colourful makeup, fake eyelashes and spiky black stilettos. Her tan looked unnatural against her blond hair and she wore a fitted, pink sequined dress that she could not quite fill in the right places. The aging woman spoke warm words of thanks as she folded the receipt marked “CASH” and handed it to the flamboyant woman.
“Good night, Mr. Collins,” said the woman in a husky falsetto voice. She reached over the counter easily and squeezed the old man’s shoulder. “You stay out of trouble, you hear me? And you make sure you take care of that young bride of yours!”
“I will, don’t you worry.” He smiled broadly at the woman like she was his own granddaughter. She blew him a kiss and left the office, room key in hand.
Still smiling, the old man watched the door close. “Mandee has been coming here for years. She is such a sweet dear,” said Mr. Collins. “I don’t know if she’s in town on business a lot or if she just likes to take a lot of mini-vacations.”
Oh, she’s here on business alright, Owen chuckled to himself and bit his lip to keep from smiling. The old man was clearly oblivious and Owen left him that way.
Riley paid for the rest of the week. They left the office and crossed the parking lot to Finn and Riley’s rooms. Halfway up the paint-chipped staircase to the second-floor rooms, they heard raised voices. At the far end of the outdoor hallway, two men argued over a transaction that one party seemed to no longer find satisfactory.
“This wasn’t the deal,” snarled one of the voices. “This is half of what we agreed on.”
“Prices go up my friend. Inflation. The economy’s not doin’ so hot right now, or haven’t you heard?”
“Don’t be an assclown. You can’t just jack up the price for no good reas…” The first man stopped talking when he saw Riley, Finn and Owen coming up the stairs.
The second man quickly, and in no way discreetly, crammed something small into his pocket. “What are you guys looking at?” asked the man angrily.
Riley opened the door and Owen quickly ushered her in. When the door closed behind him, the yelling outside resumed.
“Well, that was pleasant.” She slid out of her jacket and tossed it on the bed. “Welcome to our humble abode.”
Harvest gold walls matched the shag carpet and it reminded Owen of a horror movie he had once seen. Two mismatched wooden chairs, one armless with mint green cushions, the other with arms and a tall back with salmon pink cushions, were tucked neatly around a faux-wood table in the far corner of the room. Owen felt like he had fallen into a box of pastel mints—the bedspread on the queen-sized bed was light pink with a cream-coloured, vinyl headboard. A hanging lamp, dripping with gold beads and smoked glass baubles hung over the nightstand. Owen wondered if the door to the room was a portal that took them all back to 1972.
Owen had growing concerns about Riley and Finn’s choice of residence. The motel was located in a decent area but despite the owners’ good intentions, they were oblivious to their establishment having become a choice location for business dealings that were not on the up and up. He had only a moment to take in the room and contemplate his new friends’ safety before the arrival of the pizzas they had ordered before leaving the lab.
The delivery kid wore a concerned look on his face when Finn opened the door. Owen was unsure if it was because of the dodgy motel he was being asked to deliver to or if he was startled by Finn’s overzealous greeting. Finn greeted the kid like he was delivering the last pizzas the world would ever see. The driver’s eyes darted nervously between his car idling below in the parking lot and Finn, who, very carefully sorted the bills into colours and counted them out like a child in the first grade. Finn handed the bills to the driver who pocketed them quickly then dashed down the stairs.
“I can’t wait to see what pizza tasted like eighty-five years ago,” said Finn, closing the door and tossing the bag of napkins to Riley. He set the boxes down on the table in the corner and folded back the lids.
As Owen listened to Finn talk about all the culinary treasures he planned to eat during his visit to 2016, he found his mind wandering and he stumbled across an interesting revelation. He felt good—better than he had in the days and months previous—like he had been shaken awake from a deep sleep. This time yesterday he was heading home from work so tired that he barely remembered the drive. His only desire had been to get into bed and hope that sleep came fast. Tonight, he sat in a cramped and questionably safe motel room eating pizza with virtual strangers who had successfully convinced him that they were from the future. Having his mind blown every few minutes had mentally and physically exhausted him, but the excitement kept him on a constant high. For the first time in months, he felt normal and alive. Vibrant colour seemed to seep back into the world around him and the heaviness in his chest had eased.
After dinner, Riley dove into her preliminary briefing. Owen got a comprehensive overview of the inner workings of Operation TimeShift, the three teams and what their roles were. How Riley and Finn needed to devise a way to neutralize the Elevanium, travel back in time to the year 1200, meet Team One and execute that solution at the exact moment of the timeshift.
“I’d like to be able to help you guys, I really do, but I just don’t think I’ll be of any use,” said Owen. “I just don’t have the level of knowledge you need to…”
Riley cut him off. “I know, I know. You don’t know how to neutralize it, you don’t have the answers we need. Don’t worry about that. You’re the best chance we’ve got, and without you, we have no hope in hell.”
Owen looked at her as he mulled over her words.
“So, Owen Taylor, will you become a member of Team Two and help us?” asked Riley again.
Owen thought carefully before answering. His brain spun like the wheels of a car speeding down a street of doubt. Even though he had seen absolute proof they had come from the future, what he had seen and learned seemed so surreal. If he awoke in bed at that very moment, he would have absolutely believed it had all been a dream. He felt like he needed a sensible third-party to verify the situation to confirm that what he experienced today had in fact been real. He rationalized to himself that as unbelievable as what Riley and Finn were proposing, the work he was doing for the ISC was also top secret to the point of being unbelievable. He suspected himself to be the only person in the country privy to the information he possessed for his work for the ISC, but that had not made it any less real. The only difference, he thought, was that none of it had been explained by people from the future. In addition, he had had no idea as to how he was going to help them solve their problem. He worried that they would rely
on him and he would inevitably let them down. He was now involved with two mind-boggling projects and he could not tell any of his friends about either, which was fine because no one would believe him anyway.
Owen took a leap of faith and hoped to all that was holy he was not being filmed for a reality TV show exposing idiot scientists. “Yes. I’m in.”
“Welcome aboard!” said Finn.
“So do I get a t-shirt or something?”
“No t-shirt, but you get one of these.” She reached into a nearby box and tossed him a shiny silver VersaTool.
Owen caught it and his chest swelled with excitement and something else he could not describe, like being inducted into an exclusive club. He looked at his new VersaTool. It had none of the wear that Riley’s or Finn’s had. Riley’s VersaTool looked like it had been through a war zone. He flipped through the different options on the display and set it to the MOVE setting. He picked up the ice bucket on the nightstand then placed it on the counter across the room.
“We know you’ve got a day job, so whatever time you can spare we’ll be grateful for. And we’ll compensate you for your time of course. I know we haven’t talked about that yet, but part of the budget is to pay you…” Riley was interrupted by the rhythmic sounds of a bed creaking in the room next to them.
“And you get to hang out with people who live in a motel with colourful ambience,” said Finn. They heard a woman giggling over the creaking sounds.
Owen shuddered at the thought of having to spend one night in this place, let alone the months they expected to be here. “Are you sure you couldn’t find a better place than this?”
“We had to spend three times more than what we had anticipated on the lab. This was the best of the few choices we had. Our other options were in far more questionable areas,” said Riley. Owen’s scepticism must have showed on his face. “It’s fine. I mean it’s not ideal obviously, but it could be worse. We’ve stayed in much worse places than this. Trust me. At least we’re not being shot at. Plus, we can always crash in that dorm room at the lab if we need to.”
The woman next door giggled again, and Owen, Riley and Finn chuckled at the absurdity of the situation. They tried to resume their conversation but were derailed by a male voice asking the woman, apparently named Kitty, how she was enjoying herself. From her squeals of delight, the three could only assume she was having a great time. Riley, Owen and Finn stifled their laughter when they heard Kitty ask, in a purring voice, if he liked what she was doing, and a different male voice answered her question with a long groan, then told her how he could like it more. The thin wall that divided the two rooms moved visibly as the headboard hit the wall with an increasing cadence. A faded photograph of Niagara Falls fell off the wall. Its wooden frame bounced off the vinyl headboard and landed picture-side down on the bedspread.
“Well, I think that’s my cue to leave,” said Owen, as he picked up the photo and set it on the bedside table. He was thrilled to have a bed to go to that was far, far away from this motel. The picture frame containing the fire escape instructions swung on the hook in time with each creak. He shook his head. “Okay, seriously. You guys can’t stay here. I live in a large house and the space is truly wasted on one person. There’s more than enough room. Stay with me until you get something less colourful lined up.”
“Owen, we’re fine,” said Riley. Finn fell silent and looked longingly at Riley as if silently begging her to accept.
Owen opened his mouth to respond when all three were startled by a loud cracking sound in the parking lot.
“What the hell was that?” asked Finn.
“I think it was either a car backfiring or a gunshot,” said Owen. He opened up the curtains a crack and peered out. Seeing no moving vehicles in the parking lot, he let the curtain fall back into place. He grabbed Riley’s bag off the bed.
“That’s what a gun sounds like here?” asked Finn. “It doesn’t sound anything like the movies.”
“Surely you’ve heard of gunpowder before?”
“Gunpowder? Like that old black powder in cartoons? That is so wild!” gushed Finn. “I love it here! It’s so different, so unstructured. It’s like the Wild West.”
Owen made a mental note to inquire into that statement later; his immediate goal was to get these guys and himself out of the motel from hell. He tossed Riley her bag.
She caught it with a questioning look on her face. “Owen, what are you doing?”
“I’ve made my first decision as part of Team Two, and that’s your relocation. Get your stuff. We’re getting out of here.”
“Owen this neighbourhood is so lovely,” breathed Riley. She took in the opulent houses lining the heavily wooded street. He heard her breath catch as he pulled into his driveway bringing his home into view. The house was more to him than just a building he lived in. It connected him to his past and hopefully his future. He wanted more than anything to raise his family here. He had so many great memories growing up with his father in this house, surrounded by the nature that frequented the oversized, heavily wooded plots and the neighbouring park. He even had a few patchy memories of his grandparents picnicking by the river and helping his grandmother in the garden, pulling vegetables and eating carrots fresh from the ground.
Owen had never seen another house like his grandfather’s unique design. The sprawling, concrete and glass home consisted of a walk-out basement with two storeys above, extending beyond the concrete basement and created an overhang that sheltered a wooden patio. The rear of the walk-out basement featured a double garage and the concrete driveway sloped down toward two garage doors. To the right, a wide set of wooden stairs led to a landing that announced the home’s main entrance. Recessed pot lighting in the overhang gave the house an imposing, grand feel. A rooftop deck was partially sheltered by an enchanted-looking wooden pergola with vines and small white lights entwined around the wooden beams. Through the tall panes of smoky tinted glass window-walls, a light in the living room revealed a spacious, loft-style interior.
Owen eased his truck into the garage between his father’s Range Rover and all the tools and equipment of his father’s sculpting studio. Owen helped Riley and Finn with their bags and led them to the living area of the basement, where walk-out French doors opened onto the front lawn. Finn claimed the first bedroom he saw and deposited his belongings on the bed.
Owen led them up the stairs to the main floor. The open-concept kitchen caught Riley’s eye first. The warm glow cast by the backlighting in the glass front cabinets was drowned as Owen turned on more lights.
The living room fascinated both Riley and Finn in its tasteful simplicity and they stood for a moment to take in its expanse. The ceiling vaulted past the second floor to reveal the loft above. Exterior walls alternated between floor-to-ceiling pillars of concrete and panes of smoky tinted glass. A freestanding stone fireplace, the focal point of the room, complimented the dark hardwood floors and its rectangular base tapered as it climbed toward the ceiling. Gathered around the hearth was a brown leather sectional and matching couch, all dwarfed by the substantial living space. Atop the glass coffee table in the centre of the seating area lay several copies of Architectural Digest, National Geographic and Outdoor Living. Owen led the pair past patio doors and up a set of stairs to the second floor to another seating area overlooking the living room below. A coffee mug sat beside an open copy of Astronomy Today on the coffee table in front of a matching sofa and loveseat. A staircase on the far wall led to the rooftop patio. A hallway revealed bedrooms to the right and overlooked the living room on the left. Owen concluded the tour by giving Riley a choice of rooms in which to stay, and she chose the one Owen promised would have a spectacular view come daybreak.
Time Remaining: 184 Days
Owen awoke to find his room filled with sun and the smell of coffee. He felt like he had slept better than he had in recent memory. Remembering his company, he hopped out of bed and threw on a pair of jeans and a faded Led Zeppelin t-shirt. He stepped
barefoot onto the small glass patio off his bedroom and immediately shielded his eyes from the bright morning sun. A light breeze blew brisk air through his hair and he heard a loud family of ducks floating down the river that bordered the rear of the property.
“Mornin’ stranger,” came a voice from below. Owen looked down through squinting eyes to see Riley, already showered and dressed, her hair pulled back into the same French braid as the day previous. She looked relaxed as she read the paper and sipped her coffee at the patio table.
“Morning,” said Owen. He saw a black tank top and shorts draped over the patio railing and a pair of jogging shoes beneath. “You’ve been up a while?”
A flash of pink to Owen’s left caught his eye. He could not help but laugh, looking over and seeing Finn step onto the balcony off Riley’s room. Finn had found the floral silk robe hanging in his bedroom closet and he wore it unabashedly. Forgotten by a visiting friend, she had declined Owen’s offer to mail it, declaring it an excuse for her and her husband to visit again. The pink of the robe clashed horribly with Finn’s copper hair. Even though it was tied at the front, the garment strained over his massive shoulders and left most of his legs exposed. None of this seemed to bother Finn in the slightest.
“Top of the morning to you, Owe!” said Finn, with a salute far too exuberant for eight o’clock on a Saturday morning. “You’re not kidding Rile, this view is amazing!”
“Yes, it is remarkable.” She glanced up from her paper to agree but looked away quickly. “Dude! Come on! Glass floor!”
Riley looked back to the newspaper and chuckled. “I’ve gone on some sketchy ops in my time and I’ve seen some crazy shit. But that I did not sign up for.”
Over breakfast, Riley and Finn continued to bring Owen up to speed about their portion of the operation. Finn still wore the robe, though open wide now and with sweatpants. Owen wrote notes like a madman in between bites, desperately trying to capture every word.
“So, with no real conclusive historical data to draw from on this stuff, we’re really flying blind,” said Riley.
Owen shook his head. “It’s hard to believe that after fifty years of Elevanium playing a role of this significance in society, there’s no real information available.”
Riley shrugged. “There have been so many mysterious accidents or mishaps over the years that virtually no one wants to work with it. Or they do the minimum and don’t touch it again.”
“Well, lucky for you, I’m not superstitious.” Owen leaned back in his chair and shot back the rest of his orange juice, hoping he really believed that.