Hurricane Ridge

"How could you do this to us? How?" Molly asked in despair.

"I don't know." Matt replied. "I'm so sorry..."

"You don't know? YOU DON'T KNOW?"

"It just happened..."

"Matt, I thought we had something good. I thought you wanted a family. I feel so stupid. I can't believe I trusted you."

"I don't know what to say...I love you, Molly..."

"Do you love our children, too?"

"Of course I do. More than anything."

"Then why do this? Why? We're supposed to be a team. Raising our children. Being a family. You can't do that if you're out with another woman."

"I know...I know...can you forgive me?"

"I don't know. It's too soon. This hurts too much and I can't think."

The argument continued until Matt left for the day. Molly was left at home.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I sat down to breakfast and poured myself a bowl of jelly beans. This might sound like a very peculiar thing to do, but breakfast cereal is mostly sugar anyway. I just eliminated the pretense.

My personal data assistant activated in a series of beeps, indicating that my services were needed. I downloaded the relevant information about Molly and her family and began to read.

My job is simple. I try to help people. While time literally stands still, I can show a person events in their past, present and future. Well, not technically the future, but one of many possible futures. It can be very confusing.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Molly sat on the floor of her kitchen, clutching a dishtowel, while water ran continuously in the sink above her. Dirty dishes waited to be cleaned, but Molly could not bring herself to do them. Her eight-year old daughter was at school and her two year-old son was napping. Her husband, Matt, left for the day after their argument. With the entire house to herself, she collapsed. She buried her face in the dishtowel and sobbed.

Forty-five minutes later, Molly heard the sound of squealing brakes. She recognized right away that the mailman had pulled up in front of the house. The doorbell rang. She thought her signature was probably needed for a package. She was still in tears, still upset, and the doorbell rang again. She sighed and pulled herself up from the floor. After a few hurried moments of straightening her clothes and wiping the tears from her eyes, she answered the door.

There I was, a frail old man in a mailman's uniform. Never mind how I got the uniform, let's just say that when you have the ability to stop time, you can borrow things from people without consequence. Okay, I'll come clean. I froze time and borrowed the mailman's uniform and truck. You might think this constitutes improper conduct, but if I borrow something and return it before any time has elapsed, then it's not really borrowing, is it?

"Hello," Molly said politely. If I hadn't known, I would not have guessed that she had just spent the better part of an hour crying.

"You probably think I have a package for you, but I don't. I need to show you some things."

"Oh god, I'm calling the police..."

"No, that's not what I meant. Oh, no."

She ran to the phone, but it wasn't working. I had stopped time, so there was no way a call was going to be answered. Everyone, except the two of us, was frozen in place. She screamed and mumbled something about getting a frying pan. Stopping time wouldn't help me deal with a scared woman attacking me with a frying pan. I cursed myself for my incompetent introduction. A white light appeared from above and brightened, blinding the both of us. We were gone from her house, just in the nick of time.

The blinding light faded. Molly was thrown off-guard by the light, but I waited patiently for her to calm down. Molly was having a very traumatic day, and that was before an old man showed up in a postal uniform and sent her halfway across the country in a flash of light.

"I'm sorry about that," I said. "I always mess up my dramatic entrances. Can I start again?"

Molly didn't say anything. She looked around cautiously, taking in the surroundings, like a cat exploring new territory.

"You're in no danger. I just froze everything. Mind if I smoke?" I took a cigar from the pocket of my postal uniform. Molly watched me light the cigar and didn't respond. She looked dazed.

"I'm here to help you. You're husband is having an affair."

Molly turned and looked me over carefully. I was, thankfully, a non-threatening, weak old man. However, I seemed to know things I shouldn't know.

"What, are you my guardian angel?" she finally asked.

"I don't think so. Do angels smoke?"

"Maybe I'm dreaming."

I shrugged. "You're not dreaming, but I can't really prove it."

She considered my answer for awhile and sat down on the hilltop, looking out over the vast, flat plain below.

"I recognize this place," she said. "That's Death Valley down there."

"Yep, that's Death Valley. I love it. It's a great place to escape for awhile."

For a long time, we sat and looked at the salt flats below. I puffed on my cigar, coughing furiously at times, but Molly was lost in thought and ignored me.

"This is called Dante's View," I said, in my most friendly manner. "We're more than five thousand feet above the valley floor."

"My kids...where are my kids?" she said in a sudden fit of a panic.

"They're fine," I responded quickly. "The world is standing still while we talk. Everyone is healthy and will be okay."

"How do you know about my husband's affair?"

I pulled my personal data assistant from my pocket and an entire package of jelly beans fell out and emptied to the ground. Molly laughed and shook her head. A few of them rolled down the side of the hill, barreling toward the valley below, but I was able to rescue most of them from the dirt.

"Jelly bean?" I offered to Molly. I rubbed the jelly bean on my clothes to make sure it was clean.

"Er, no," she responded. "Thank you."

I ate the jelly bean. When you can stop time, there is no ten-second rule. I put the rest back in my pocket. I showed Molly my personal data assistant, but she wasn't impressed.

"I get all of my information from this machine. It allows me to help people. Now, I'm helping you."

"I don't see how you can help me. Unless you can turn back time. Then we can find the other woman and set her on fire before she meets my husband."

"Nope, can't do that," I said.

"Shoot," she responded.

"Everyone is free to make their own choices in life, even when they hurt other people."

"I'll never be able to trust him again."

"This must be so hard. I'm sorry."

"What am I supposed to do? Just forgive and forget? Dump him?"

"I have no idea."

"Really?"

"Really."

"You're machine can't tell you what I should do?"

"Nope. Life is like a road with many forks. Every decision sends you down a new road, with intended and unintended consequences. Here, let me show you something. Cover your eyes."

The bright light appeared again from above, blinding them. Molly covered her face defensively.

When the light faded, we were standing in the pediatric unit of a hospital. Down the hall, a doctor was talking to a nurse in hushed whispers. Molly was shocked again by our sudden change in locale. She was tempted to yell out something, but she quickly covered her mouth to keep from alarming everyone in the hospital.

"Don't worry, kiddo. Nobody can hear us," I told her.

"Oh."

Molly relaxed and looked around. A large pane of glass separated us from a group of newborns, all nestled softly in their individual cribs. All of the babies appeared to be sleeping peacefully. A nurse was in the room, moving from baby to baby, checking on each one.

"That's you, the one on the far right," I told Molly, tapping the glass. I began another coughing attack, something that happened often when I had gone awhile without a cigar. Molly panicked, thinking I would wake up every single baby. I waved her off. Nobody could hear me. Molly remembered and smiled, then turned her attention back to the babies.

"That's me over there, huh?"

"Yep."

"I was pudgy."

"All babies are pudgy."

To Molly's great surprise, her parents entered from the doorway down the hall and walked toward them. Her mother wore a traditional light blue hospital gown and a plastic white wristband. She looked tired and stepped lightly, still recovering from the delivery. Her father was with her mother, holding her hand.

"Oh my god, those are my parents," Molly said. "They look so young."

I didn't say anything. I ate another jelly bean, hoping it would serve as a cough drop. Molly's parents searched through the glass for a couple of seconds before identifying their baby girl. Her mother pressed her nose to the glass and smiled. Her father stood behind her mother and wrapped his strong arms around her. He kissed her on the neck, then whispered to her.

"I don't want to take the job. I think we should stay right here."

"Really?" her mother answered with a weary smile.

"Yeah, your parents are here. Our friends our here. This isn't the time to move across the country."

They hugged and enjoyed the moment, watching their new baby girl sleep peacefully in the hospital crib.

Molly turned to me. "My parents were going to move? I never knew that."

"Yeah, to Pittsburgh," I answered. "Your dad was offered a job there. It would have been a considerable raise. He turned it down."

"I never knew. My life might have been a lot different."

"That's an understatement. Want to see?"

"Huh. Does that mean I have to be blinded again...?"

"Yeah. Sorry, kiddo, that's just how it works."

"Can we stay here for a little while longer? It's not every day you get to see your parents like this..."

"Sure, just let me know."

Molly's attention switched from her parents back to herself as a baby. She remembered how she felt when her own children were born, and it seemed to fascinate her that her own parents felt the same way about her. When her parents left the hallway and returned to her mother's hospital room, she took one last look at herself as a newborn baby.

"Okay, I'm ready."

Another bright light. Molly was prepared and covered her eyes.

They stood in the entryway of a very large, ornate mansion. A gold chandelier with hundreds of dangling crystals hung above their heads. Expensive paintings hung on every wall. The next room over was filled with fancy, antique furniture that appeared unused. Through the front window, there was an incredible green garden that led to a large gate. Gardeners were hard at work in various flower beds.

"This place is enormous," Molly said in awe. "The people who live here must be very rich."

"This is your house. Well, it would have been your house if your parents had moved to Pittsburgh."

"You're kidding."

"I am way too old to kid you."

"I'm rich? Really? How did this happen?"

"Your husband in this life is a well-known surgeon. The point is, one tiny decision a person makes effects many things. We don't usually see what happens when different choices are made, so we don't even think about it. Do you remember how you met your husband?"

"Of course. Matt and I were in the same chemistry class together at UCLA."

"Where would you be now if you had registered for a different section of this chemistry class? Do you remember?"

Molly sat down on a chair in the lobby area of the house and considered. "You know, I remember that I was going to take either chemistry or biology that semester. I just chose chemistry and I can't remember why. I was late for registration and couldn't get into the section I wanted, and ended up in the section Matt was in."

"So, if you had taken biology, you wouldn't have met Matt. Or, if you had shown up on time for registration, you wouldn't have met Matt."

"Oh man," she said, shaking her head. "If I had gone to a different college, or majored in something else, then I wouldn't have met him, either. That's wild to think about."

"For most people, a lot of strange things have fallen into place to create the world they now occupy."

"That's kind of amazing."

"One minor change can lead to a completely different life."

"So, if my dad accepted that job in Pittsburgh, then I'd be married and wealthy? Am I happy in this life?"

I checked my personal data assistant. "Do you really want to know?"

Molly chewed this over. "It's probably better that I don't know. It would piss me off right now if I would have been happy in Pittsburgh."

"This life would have come with its own challenges, kiddo."

I put the machine back in my pocket. I noticed a dish of fancy chocolate candies sitting on a table in the next room. I couldn't resist.

"You eat too much," Molly scolded me. "You're going to get diabetes or have a heart attack."

I shook my head as I bit into one of the candies. "Nope, my health doesn't change. That's a perk of my job."

"Is that why you smoke so much? You can't get cancer?"

"I smoke because it makes my breath smell like fresh flowers. Now, watch for the bright light."

"Oh god, here we go..."

The bright light returned and again diminished. Molly covered her eyes, but tried to peek to see exactly what was going on.

"What happens when the light appears?"

"We travel."

Molly rolled her eyes. She was about to respond, but she recognized the new environment immediately. They stood in the living room of her parents' house, the same house where she grew up. The living room was furnished the way it had been when she was in high school, walls painted a dull brown that would be repainted blue in the coming years. Molly immediately went to the box-shaped piano sitting in the corner of the living room and laid her hand upon it. I knew from my personal data assistant that Molly loved music and was a decent piano player.

The front door opened and Molly watched the high school version of herself run past. She had just retrieved a letter from the mailbox. She screamed out to anyone within listening distance.

"That's me when I was eighteen?" the modern Molly said to me. "Oh, this is cruel."

"Sorry," I responded. I didn't really mean it.

"I was such a dork," she said, shaking her head in embarrassment. I licked my fingers clean of the chocolate candy I had taken from the other house. Her father walked into the room.

"Well, open it. I can't wait," her father said anxiously.

The eighteen year-old Molly opened it, then stopped to read the letter. After about ten seconds of scanning, she jumped up and down, elated.

"I got in!" she exclaimed. She danced around and around. Her father smiled and told her he was proud of her.

"Yeah," the modern Molly said to me. "That was when I got my acceptance letter to UCLA. I was so happy."

"I can tell. You did very well there, too."

Molly smiled, watching the scene play out in front of her. The high school version of herself hugged her father, then ran to find her mother.

"I was a really good student," the modern Molly said. "I worked hard to get in there."

"My machine says you had a 3.5 grade point average in college."

"I wanted to be a veterinarian so much. I love animals. There's nothing better than taking care of animals. Dogs are my favorite..."

"Do you plan to be a vet again someday?"

"I hope so. I would love to work in a clinic, or perhaps open my own facility."

Silence ensued for awhile as her family celebrated the acceptance letter. The modern Molly turned to me, looking a little confused.

"I don't understand. Matt has another woman. My childhood and where I went to college have no bearing on my marriage today, does it?"

"Well, kiddo, sometimes you need to remember where you came from to see where you are going."

"That makes no sense."

"Okay," I sighed. "Let's go somewhere else."

"Bright light?"

"You got it."

The light returned to blind them, then disappeared again. They were sitting in a restaurant booth. Molly looked around and recognized it as a McDonald's, but she didn't know which city they were in. The restaurant was full of people, mostly older folks enjoying nothing more than a cup of coffee.

"Oh no, I hate McDonalds," Molly said. "Why the hell are we here?"

"Listen to those women sitting in the booth behind me. I'll be right back."

Molly listened to the women chattering away. They were holding an animated conversation, but one woman in particular stood out. Her voice was raised and she often slammed her fist on the table when she talked.

"All men are cheaters. Every last stinking one of them," she said.

"I'm not sure Earl is cheating, though. He's been out late..."

"Wake up! He's cheating, that lying bastard," she spat out.

"Some guys don't cheat," another woman said.

"The only reason a guy wouldn't cheat is if he's just too damn ugly to find another woman."

The women laughed nervously. She continued her verbal assault.

"My husband, that jerk, cheated on me with that bitch at the bakery. I worked my ass off for him and he threw it all away. My life was never the same. My son started in on the drugs and wrecked his life. I got depressed and lost my job. I'll never forgive him for what he did. Never. He destroyed my life."

I returned and sat down with three cheeseburgers and a shake. "Have you been listening to those women?"

"Yeah, that one lady, wow, she's so angry. I can't blame her. I feel like MY husband threw us all over a bridge."

"That woman," I said, gesturing. "She was a little like you. Happy, confident, ambitious. That was many, many years ago."

"So, this is what I have to look forward to? Great...that's just great..."

"No. The woman behind you made a conscious choice."

"No, she didn't choose to have her husband cheat. That's not right."

"Her husband made a choice that hurt her, but she chose to stay angry and bitter."

"I know what you're saying, but that's so hard. I am really, REALLY angry right now. My husband is such a shit. He is so pathetic."

"I'm sorry, kiddo," I said regretfully. "I know its painful. I wish it would go away soon, but it won't."

"Can you do your light thing? Let's get out of here," she said. The bitterness of the old woman had taken its toll.

"Sure," I said. I picked up my cheeseburgers and tried to find enough pocket space for them. I discovered that mailmen don't have very large pockets in their uniforms. Unfortunately, only two burgers fit in my pocket, so I held the remaining cheeseburger in one hand and the shake in the other. The bright light appeared.

"Uh oh, I forgot a straw," I said when the light was near maximum intensity.

The light diminished this time, and we found ourselves in front of the chemistry building on the UCLA campus. Crowds of students hustled to get to the next class. Right in front of us, the college version of Molly walked past, carrying a backpack over her right shoulder. She was clearly a confident, bright young woman. A young man ran up to her from behind and tapped her on the shoulder. Meanwhile, I tried to figure out how I was going to drink my shake without a straw.

"That's my husband," the modern Molly told me. "This is when we met for the first time."

I knew that, of course. I decided that I would drink my shake from the cup. The scene unfolding in front of us was fascinating.

"Hey, I saw you in Chem 2100," the man said to the college version of Molly. "You sit in the row in front of me."

"Yeah, hi there. I'm Molly."

"Matt. Nice to meet you. I was just, you know, sick last week and missed a few classes..."

"Do you want to borrow my notes?"

"Well, I was actually wondering if you wanted to...study together?"

"I'll let you borrow my notes, and I'll talk to you tomorrow, okay?"

"Oh, okay," Matt responded. He looked disappointed. "Thanks."

Matt watched Molly walk away. Of course, we know that the two of them would someday be married and have children together, but it was amusing to observe how deftly Molly handled him that day.