Willie's Redneck Time Machine (15 page)

YOU AND JOHN LUKE
watch as Si attempts to guide his parachute down toward your backyard. He does a terrible job and ends up stuck in a tree. You send John Luke up there to cut him down.

Once Si has his feet back on earth, you ask him what’s going on. He’s got some kind of weird astronaut outfit on.

“There’s been a space-time continuum problem,” Si says. “You have to go back to the future.”

You and John Luke stare at each other.

“Si, what are you talking about?”

“You want to know what I’m talking about? Look, I’m tired. I just survived an alien in my spaceship, a computer taking over my craft, a flight around the moon, and destroying the evil Dismal One. And that’s all
before
I learned the
future of the world
depends
on you getting in that time machine and setting it to the year 2319.”

Si’s not the only one who is tired. “Look, Si, seriously
 
—I don’t think we should use that time machine again anytime soon. I barely managed to get John Luke back.”

He yanks the front of your shirt and pulls you to him. His eyes get big behind his glasses.

“It’s the fate of all mankind in your hands.
The fate of the world.
”

“Dad
 
—it’s the fate of all mankind.”

“Be quiet, John Luke,” you say.

You see Jep and his family entering your house for Korie’s birthday party.

You
really
don’t want to get back in that time machine.

Do you decide to go to the party and ignore Si’s warning?
Go here
.

Do you get in the time machine by yourself and set it for the year 2319?
Go here
.

YOU RETURN TO THE TIME MACHINE
and end up face-to-face with the old guy in the robe again.

“Good choice,” he says.

“Am I supposed to leave?”

“You can’t leave. You must go out and fulfill your mission.”

“My mission?”

He nods. “Yes. To go and build the great bridge over the River Kwai.” Then he stops for a moment. “No, no, I’m sorry. That is not this story.”

You’re very confused now. “Do you know where my son is? Or my brother? Or my uncle? Or my father?”

“Did your whole family get lost?” he asks
 
—or jokes. You can’t tell which is which with him.

“Seems that way.”

“You, my big bearded brother, are going to head out there into the brave unknown.”

You point to the open door. “You mean the place I just came from? The place where I met you?”

“Yes, yes. Just
 
—it sounds better that way.”

“Okay.”

The old man presses a button on the wall. Underneath it, a panel drops open, revealing a table with three different items on it. “One of these things will help you in your journey.” He picks up the first one. “You have a personal flotation device right here.”

“That’s a life jacket,” you say.

“It’s a personal flotation device. The second is a distress pull cord.”

You shake your head. “A what? That’s like Batman’s gun. It’s a grappling-hook gun.”

He chooses to ignore you. “The third is a chainsaw.”

“Oh, you’re not going to call it a metal teeth-cruncher thing?” you joke.

The old man doesn’t laugh.

It’s time to choose.

“So either I have to float on water somewhere, climb up a castle, or cut down a tree?”

His expression doesn’t change. “Choose, and choose now.”

Do you pick the life jacket?
Go here
.

Do you pick the grappling-hook gun?
Go here
.

Do you pick the chainsaw?
Go here
.

SO YOU DECIDE TO GET IN THE CAR
with John Luke (which requires a little bit of time since the car is both low and tiny) and allow him to drive away. You look at him while you’re coasting through a parking lot.

“This is really weird,” you say.

“I understand.”

His voice sounds so . . . adult.

“What are you doing now?” you ask him.

“I’m a professor teaching at Louisiana State.”

You can’t help but laugh. “How’d
that
happen?”

“I went to college and studied and became a professor.”

“And what about the family business?”

John Luke shakes his head. “There is no more business. You and Mom decided to open a fitness and yoga place.”

“What?”

He doesn’t look like he’s joking. He turns and gets on a road that resembles I-20. But it’s different because the road seems to vanish ahead.

“All interstates are underground now,” John Luke says as you enter a tunnel. “They need less maintenance, and it helps with all the pollution.”

“Okay. What’s the yoga place called?”

“Body by WillKore.”

Something is definitely wrong with this future. You’re just not sure why.

“Uh, Professor John Luke? Are you married?”

“Yep.”

“Kids?”

“Have three of them.”

“How did you meet your wife?” you ask.

“Remember the thing
 
—well, of course you remember it. Twitter? I actually found this girl who was a super-big fan of mine on Twitter. She turned out to be a sweet girl who loves the Lord and is a wonderful soul.”

“You found her on Twitter?”

He nods.

Again, you know something is really not right with the universe.

The car enters sunlight again.

“Are we heading back home?”

“Oh no. I can’t do that to you. I’m driving back to the other machine. To set things right.”

Some of the scenery looks exactly the same as it did
 
—well, back in the present. Then you’re underground on another highway.

“Tell me about the rest of the family,” you say, curious but almost afraid to ask.

“Let’s see,” John Luke says, clearing his throat. “Jase became a professional golfer.”

“What?”

“Yes. Won the Masters
twice
. Uncle Al took his family and moved to New York City to start up a ministry. It’s currently the only active church in the city. And Uncle Jep . . . he’s doing his thing.”

“What happened?”

“He, uh
 
—after he went on
Dancing with the Stars
, the whole music thing opened up for him. He’s got some of the bestselling albums of all time now.”

You start laughing and almost can’t stop. This is all pure insanity.

The fried pickles went to my head.

“What sort of albums did he do?”

“Disco. Which, well, you know. Disco went out in the seventies. But actually it
came back about five years ago
 
—when Jep brought it back. The album you and Jase sang on with him was the biggest seller. You were like the Bee Gees, except
 
—well, you’re the J-Robs.”

Before you can ask about the rest of the family, John Luke exits the new underground highway thing and heads down a country road.

“Taking me to another outhouse?” you ask John Luke.

He shakes his head. “No. But I am taking you to another time machine.”

You look at his goatee. “You finally grew some facial hair, huh?”

“Yes. But my wife wanted me to keep the dimple showing. It was a big campaign on Twitter
 
—#keepthedimple.” John Luke doesn’t laugh like he thinks this is funny or ridiculous.

“Whatever happened to Twitter?”

He sighs. “There was like a whole war and everything. It got ugly.”

“A war. Like a media war or something?”

“No. Like a literal war. Anyway, long story. There’s not enough time.”

He slows down at a small, winding street off the dirt road you’re on. Then he turns and drives for about five minutes before arriving at an old wooden barn.

“Is that the time machine?” you ask.

“No. They can’t get them
that
big.”

“So, John Luke.” You have to ask before leaving this weird and wacky world. “Are you happy? Now? In your life?”

He nods. “Yeah. Got a great family. God has been good to us. Can’t complain.”

This is good to hear. Despite all the strangeness.

You both walk into the barn, and after the lights go on, you discover the driver’s seat from a car.

“You just sit down there and it transports you to wherever you think of going,” John Luke says.

For a moment you consider all the places you’d like to go. But then you realize you have to go back to the moment you made the mistake of deciding to get the po’boy sandwich at Duck Diner.

“Anywhere I want to go? I just have to think about it?”

John Luke nods. You can’t help noticing how tall he is now.

“Man, you really grew, didn’t you?” you say.

“It’s funny seeing you in a beard, Dad. You haven’t had one in years.”

“I don’t think I was meant to be a yoga instructor,” you say.

“I don’t either. A lot of things have seemed weird. I think
 
—I don’t know. I think you might be able to help by going back in time.”

You look at the car seat and think you recognize it.

“Is that from your Jeep?”

John Luke nods. “Yep. I kept it for nostalgia.”

“Or did you eventually crash it, and that was the only piece left?”

“Well . . .”

You give your son a hug and decide to get in the driver’s seat. But one thing before you leave.

“Okay, I just gotta ask
 
—” you begin to say.

“Sadie started an orphanage in the Dominican Republic. Rebecca’s fashion line is now worldwide. Will is a big-time music producer who helped with Jep’s albums. And Bella is a famous chef. She cooks for a restaurant on Mars.”

You nod. “These all seem totally believable.”

With a smile and a handshake for John Luke, you take a seat. You focus on the moment you chose to go to Duck Diner instead of getting in the outhouse right away, and the driver’s seat begins to spin.

Maybe you’re not ready to face this future just yet.

THE END

Start over.

Read “The Morning Fog: A Note from John Luke Robertson.”