When I was eighteen , Sarah was murdered. Her boyfriend had strangled her. The day that she met him , she'd been so excited. She had come running to me and told me all about him , how tall he was , how good looking he was , how polite he was , and how smart. He was a senior , and she a freshman.
"His name's Vincent!" she said almost breathlessly. "He's three years older than me , he's captain of the varsity football team , and every girl in school likes him! But he likes me , even though I'm not the prettiest girl in school! I want you to meet him and tell me what you think!"
So , I met him. He seemed nice enough. He said all the right things , and seemed to genuinely like Sarah. But there was something about him that didn't quite seem right. Was it because he was three years older than Sarah? Or was it because she was the kind of girl that never fell for the obvious type? He seemed too perfect , too good looking , and most of all , too polite. I never trust people who are too polite. It seems like they're putting on an act , to try and impress someone.
"Well , what do you think ?" she asked after he had gone.
"Why do you care what I think? You're going to see this guy no matter what I say."
"Be serious!"
"Alright. I think you're too young. You're not ready to start dating , Sarah. You're only fourteen."
"Who said anything about dating? Can't a girl just like a guy?"
"Of course you can. Just don't start dating until you're at least fifteen , or I'll kill you , and Dad will kill you. Speaking of Dad , what does he think of your new beau?"
"He's not my beau ," she said. "Dad hasn't met him yet. I wanted you to meet him first and tell me what you thought of him."
"Alright. I'll tell you what I think , but I don't think you're going to like it. Still want to hear it?"
"No , but you'll tell me anyway."
"He seems like a nice guy ," I said.
She smiled. "That's it?"
What I said next made her look like she wanted to kill me. "I don't trust him."
"Who the hell asked you?" She left my room , closing the door a little too loud.
"You did ," I said.
My father seemed to like him well enough , but he strictly forbade Sarah from seeing him outside of school. That meant , besides school , she could only see him at our house , or his , just as long a parent or a guardian were present. But she couldn't be watched all the time , and it wasn't long before they were sneaking around. Sometimes they would meet at our house while I was out , and my father was at work. She even took to playing hooky from school , which brought her nothing but trouble.
This behavior went on for some time before my father found out about it. he was furious. She was no longer allowed to see Vincent. He was no longer welcome at our house , and Sarah was forbidden to speak to him , not even at school. She was grounded for two weeks. She was not even permitted to see her friends , not that she had very many ; most girls considered her a book worm because she wore glasses and liked to read. She complained as any teenage girl would do when they believed life was unfair. But it didn't stop her from seeing him. Often she would sneak out of the house to meet him.
One night , she climbed out her bedroom window , and never came back. Two days later , she was dead. her body was discovered in a drainage ditch , two miles from school. According to the police , she had been strangled. She had been tossed into the ditch as if she had been nothing more than yesterday's garbage. Vincent was the only suspect they had , so the police picked him for questioning. Later , he was arrested and arraigned for trial.
After Sarah's funeral , my father suffered a break down and had to be hospitalized. The pain of losing a wife , and now a daughter , were too much for him. Before she was buried , I placed a letter and a picture in Sarah's coffin. I'd written the letter the night beforte. In it , I told her how much she was loved , would be missed , and how proud of her Dad and I had been. She had been blessed with beauty and intelligence. She could have been whatever she desired ; a super model , an actress , or even a scientist. But time's river had flowed differently for Sarah , taking her to a destination that was neither fair , nor deserved.
I ended the letter telling her that she had been the prettiest girl in school. Sarah never fancied herself a beauty. But she had been. More than she knew.
I read the letter aloud , and then placed it and the picture in her right hand. The picture was a family photo of the four of us during happier times , a million years ago. I thought she would like that.
Watching her coffin being lowered into the ground , with tears streaming down my face , I wished I could have told her everything in the letter , while she had been alive.
With my father institutionalized , aunt Becky would not let me stay in the house alone. I was working part time , nights , after school , and I had no desire to come home to an empty house , so after the funeral , I packed some clothes and drove my used mustang over to her house. She wanted me to stay with Jack , but I said I didn't want to invade anyone's space , so she gave me the basement.
Except for a few large boxes and a roll away bed , it was empty , and cold. A plastic sheet was wrapped around the bed's mattress. I unfolded the bed , removed the plastic , and sat down , thinking about Sarah.
Like my mother , I wished I could have been there to save her. I should have told her not to see Vincent , the day she had introduced him. I knew there was something wrong about him , but I didn't tell her that. If I had , would she still be alive? Would she have listened to me? No , she would have gone behind my back , just as she had always done.
Aunt Becky came down the stairs with an end table and a lamp. "Would you help me with these , Tom?"
I took the table and put it at the head of the bed. She placed the lamp on top of it , and plugged it into the basements only outlet and turned it on.
"I bought these at a yard sale last month. I asked Jack to refinish them for me , but i can't get him away from his video games long enough to do anything. So , I stored them in the attic. And now I'm giving them to you."
Looking around , she said , "now it's not so dark in here. But it is cold. There's a space heater around here somewhere. I'll look for it after dinner , which will be ready in about an hour."
"I really won't need a space heater. A blanket will do."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes , I'm sure ," I said. "And thank you for letting me stay here. I really appreciate it."
She sat down next to me and smiled. "You're welcome. I couldn't bare the thought of you being all alone in that house."
I could smell her perfume. It was getting to me. I had to remind myself that this was my aunt , no matter how attractive she was.
She sighed. "I know you probably feel all alone right now. But you're not , Tom. You have a lot of people who love you , us included. We all care about you , and want you to know that you can talk to us about anything. You're a part of this family and always will be."
I hung my head awkwardly and nodded. I loved this woman dearly. She had always been there for me. Whenever I needed someone to talk to , or just listen to me , I could always count on her. She would drop whatever she had been doing , and make time for me. She had been that way with Sarah , too.
After dinner , which had been eaten in awkward silence - mostly on my part - I went back downstairs for a change of clothes before leaving for work. I had a part time job at the Shop And Go , evenings after school , which I'd missed because of the funeral.
I was starting back up the stairs when Aunt Becky came down and handed me a couple of blankets and an envelope. "These are for you."
"What's in the envelope?"
"It's from your mother ," she said. "She wanted me to give it to you if something should ever happen to her. But it wasn't supposed to be until you were eighteen."
"What do you mean , if something should happen to her?" I said.
She sat next to me on the bed. "I don't really know. One day , four years ago , she came to me with this letter , and asked me if I could give it to you when you were eighteen. I asked her if anything was wrong ; she said no. But she looked so sad when she said it , like she'd just lost a best friend. I tried to get her to tell me what was bothering her. She said she couldn't tell me ; she didn't want to get me involved. And that was it. She left."
"Did you read the letter?" I saked. "Maybe there's a clue in it."
"No , I didn't. I don't feel comfortable invading someone else's privacy."
I tore open the envelope. "Well , if you you need anything , let me know."
She started up the stairs. "By the way , I called your boss and told her about Sarah. She's giving you the rest of the week off , with pay."
"You did that?"
She nodded , smiling. "I was hoping you wouldn't mind."
"No , I don't mind at all. As a matter of fact , I really appreciate it."
She smiled , and started back up the stairs.
"Aunt Becky?"
"Yes , Tom?"
"You've always been my favorite aunt ," I said. After a moment of awkward silence , I said ,"I just wanted you to know that."
It embarrassed the hell out of me to admit it , but was true.
She smiled. "Thank you , Tom. And you've always been my favorite nephew." She went upstairs , quietly closing the door behind her.
Was I her favorite nephew , or did she say it just to be nice?
The envelope contained a key and a single sheet of paper , written in elegant script. It read :
Dear Tom ,
If you're reading , it can only mean one thing : My death. I didn't want to have to put it this way , but I couldn't think of any other way. I was killed by some very dangerous people who wanted to steal my research , and they would do anything to get their hands on it. Even murder. But they were not entirely successful. They were successful in killing me , but not in stealing my reasearch. I made sure that my journal , and what I've been working on , have been kept hidden from them. Only you know where they are. I'll tell you where they are , but first I want to tell you what it is that I've been working on for the past three years.
Almost four years ago , I created a devise that allows instantaneous travel through time and space , and to alternate worlds. I call it the Alternate Reality Locater , or Al for short. It contains an advanced and sophisticated computer chip. It locates and opens time portals , or worm holes. Some of these holes even lead to other worlds within our own galaxy! And once these worlds have been accessed , the computer then stores the information in it's memory.
I know that this is hard for you to accept , as is the fact of my death. But , it's all true. I'm not crazy , as you might be thinking. And to prove it , I'm going to tell you where you can find the ARL , and my journal.
With this letter , I've enclosed a key. It is to my safety deposit box at the Union Pacific bank. That's where you will find them. I've left instructions with a certiain employee. She's a friend of mine. She will allow you to access it's contents if you should ever need to. All you to do is show her an ID. Her name is Susan.
With the journal and the ARL , I've left simple instructions on how to use it. I want you to use it wisely , Tom. It is not a toy. Be careful with it ; it is a very sensitive devise. If you break it , there will be no way for you to fix it.
I want you to use it to explore , as I would have , had my life not been cut short. There are hundreds of inhabited worlds in this galaxy alone. I have visited some of them. And so will you.
But , I must warn you : you cannot change the past or mess with the timeline of this , or any other reality. If you do so , there may be serious consequences. Be careful! And trust no one! you will not know who your enemy is. They will not hesitate to kill you , Tom. I don't want that to happen.
Before I gave this letter to your aunt , I considered burning it. That way the ARL would be kept hidden forever , and you would not be in danger because of it. But I would be depriving you of something you so much deserve. I have no right to keep that from you. I could not forgive myself. The ARL belongs to you now.
Good luck , my dear , sweet Tom. tell Sarah and your father that I love them both , as I love you.
Mom
"Of course you can. Just don't start dating until you're at least fifteen , or I'll kill you , and Dad will kill you. Speaking of Dad , what does he think of your new beau?"
"He's not my beau ," she said. "Dad hasn't met him yet. I wanted you to meet him first and tell me what you thought of him."
"Alright. I'll tell you what I think , but I don't think you're going to like it. Still want to hear it?"
"No , but you'll tell me anyway."
"He seems like a nice guy ," I said.
She smiled. "That's it?"
What I said next made her look like she wanted to kill me. "I don't trust him."
"Who the hell asked you?" She left my room , closing the door a little too loud.
"You did ," I said.
My father seemed to like him well enough , but he strictly forbade Sarah from seeing him outside of school. That meant , besides school , she could only see him at our house , or his , just as long a parent or a guardian were present. But she couldn't be watched all the time , and it wasn't long before they were sneaking around. Sometimes they would meet at our house while I was out , and my father was at work. She even took to playing hooky from school , which brought her nothing but trouble.
This behavior went on for some time before my father found out about it. he was furious. She was no longer allowed to see Vincent. He was no longer welcome at our house , and Sarah was forbidden to speak to him , not even at school. She was grounded for two weeks. She was not even permitted to see her friends , not that she had very many ; most girls considered her a book worm because she wore glasses and liked to read. She complained as any teenage girl would do when they believed life was unfair. But it didn't stop her from seeing him. Often she would sneak out of the house to meet him.
One night , she climbed out her bedroom window , and never came back. Two days later , she was dead. her body was discovered in a drainage ditch , two miles from school. According to the police , she had been strangled. She had been tossed into the ditch as if she had been nothing more than yesterday's garbage. Vincent was the only suspect they had , so the police picked him for questioning. Later , he was arrested and arraigned for trial.
After Sarah's funeral , my father suffered a break down and had to be hospitalized. The pain of losing a wife , and now a daughter , were too much for him. Before she was buried , I placed a letter and a picture in Sarah's coffin. I'd written the letter the night beforte. In it , I told her how much she was loved , would be missed , and how proud of her Dad and I had been. She had been blessed with beauty and intelligence. She could have been whatever she desired ; a super model , an actress , or even a scientist. But time's river had flowed differently for Sarah , taking her to a destination that was neither fair , nor deserved.
I ended the letter telling her that she had been the prettiest girl in school. Sarah never fancied herself a beauty. But she had been. More than she knew.
I read the letter aloud , and then placed it and the picture in her right hand. The picture was a family photo of the four of us during happier times , a million years ago. I thought she would like that.
Watching her coffin being lowered into the ground , with tears streaming down my face , I wished I could have told her everything in the letter , while she had been alive.
With my father institutionalized , aunt Becky would not let me stay in the house alone. I was working part time , nights , after school , and I had no desire to come home to an empty house , so after the funeral , I packed some clothes and drove my used mustang over to her house. She wanted me to stay with Jack , but I said I didn't want to invade anyone's space , so she gave me the basement.
Except for a few large boxes and a roll away bed , it was empty , and cold. A plastic sheet was wrapped around the bed's mattress. I unfolded the bed , removed the plastic , and sat down , thinking about Sarah.
Like my mother , I wished I could have been there to save her. I should have told her not to see Vincent , the day she had introduced him. I knew there was something wrong about him , but I didn't tell her that. If I had , would she still be alive? Would she have listened to me? No , she would have gone behind my back , just as she had always done.
Aunt Becky came down the stairs with an end table and a lamp. "Would you help me with these , Tom?"
I took the table and put it at the head of the bed. She placed the lamp on top of it , and plugged it into the basements only outlet and turned it on.
"I bought these at a yard sale last month. I asked Jack to refinish them for me , but i can't get him away from his video games long enough to do anything. So , I stored them in the attic. And now I'm giving them to you."
Looking around , she said , "now it's not so dark in here. But it is cold. There's a space heater around here somewhere. I'll look for it after dinner , which will be ready in about an hour."
"I really won't need a space heater. A blanket will do."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes , I'm sure ," I said. "And thank you for letting me stay here. I really appreciate it."
She sat down next to me and smiled. "You're welcome. I couldn't bare the thought of you being all alone in that house."
I could smell her perfume. It was getting to me. I had to remind myself that this was my aunt , no matter how attractive she was.
She sighed. "I know you probably feel all alone right now. But you're not , Tom. You have a lot of people who love you , us included. We all care about you , and want you to know that you can talk to us about anything. You're a part of this family and always will be."
I hung my head awkwardly and nodded. I loved this woman dearly. She had always been there for me. Whenever I needed someone to talk to , or just listen to me , I could always count on her. She would drop whatever she had been doing , and make time for me. She had been that way with Sarah , too.
After dinner , which had been eaten in awkward silence - mostly on my part - I went back downstairs for a change of clothes before leaving for work. I had a part time job at the Shop And Go , evenings after school , which I'd missed because of the funeral.
I was starting back up the stairs when Aunt Becky came down and handed me a couple of blankets and an envelope. "These are for you."
"What's in the envelope?"
"It's from your mother ," she said. "She wanted me to give it to you if something should ever happen to her. But it wasn't supposed to be until you were eighteen."
"What do you mean , if something should happen to her?" I said.
She sat next to me on the bed. "I don't really know. One day , four years ago , she came to me with this letter , and asked me if I could give it to you when you were eighteen. I asked her if anything was wrong ; she said no. But she looked so sad when she said it , like she'd just lost a best friend. I tried to get her to tell me what was bothering her. She said she couldn't tell me ; she didn't want to get me involved. And that was it. She left."
"Did you read the letter?" I saked. "Maybe there's a clue in it."
"No , I didn't. I don't feel comfortable invading someone else's privacy."
I tore open the envelope. "Well , if you you need anything , let me know."
She started up the stairs. "By the way , I called your boss and told her about Sarah. She's giving you the rest of the week off , with pay."
"You did that?"
She nodded , smiling. "I was hoping you wouldn't mind."
"No , I don't mind at all. As a matter of fact , I really appreciate it."
She smiled , and started back up the stairs.
"Aunt Becky?"
"Yes , Tom?"
"You've always been my favorite aunt ," I said. After a moment of awkward silence , I said ,"I just wanted you to know that."
It embarrassed the hell out of me to admit it , but was true.
She smiled. "Thank you , Tom. And you've always been my favorite nephew." She went upstairs , quietly closing the door behind her.
Was I her favorite nephew , or did she say it just to be nice?
The envelope contained a key and a single sheet of paper , written in elegant script. It read :
Dear Tom ,
If you're reading , it can only mean one thing : My death. I didn't want to have to put it this way , but I couldn't think of any other way. I was killed by some very dangerous people who wanted to steal my research , and they would do anything to get their hands on it. Even murder. But they were not entirely successful. They were successful in killing me , but not in stealing my reasearch. I made sure that my journal , and what I've been working on , have been kept hidden from them. Only you know where they are. I'll tell you where they are , but first I want to tell you what it is that I've been working on for the past three years.
Almost four years ago , I created a devise that allows instantaneous travel through time and space , and to alternate worlds. I call it the Alternate Reality Locater , or Al for short. It contains an advanced and sophisticated computer chip. It locates and opens time portals , or worm holes. Some of these holes even lead to other worlds within our own galaxy! And once these worlds have been accessed , the computer then stores the information in it's memory.
I know that this is hard for you to accept , as is the fact of my death. But , it's all true. I'm not crazy , as you might be thinking. And to prove it , I'm going to tell you where you can find the ARL , and my journal.
With this letter , I've enclosed a key. It is to my safety deposit box at the Union Pacific bank. That's where you will find them. I've left instructions with a certiain employee. She's a friend of mine. She will allow you to access it's contents if you should ever need to. All you to do is show her an ID. Her name is Susan.
With the journal and the ARL , I've left simple instructions on how to use it. I want you to use it wisely , Tom. It is not a toy. Be careful with it ; it is a very sensitive devise. If you break it , there will be no way for you to fix it.
I want you to use it to explore , as I would have , had my life not been cut short. There are hundreds of inhabited worlds in this galaxy alone. I have visited some of them. And so will you.
But , I must warn you : you cannot change the past or mess with the timeline of this , or any other reality. If you do so , there may be serious consequences. Be careful! And trust no one! you will not know who your enemy is. They will not hesitate to kill you , Tom. I don't want that to happen.
Before I gave this letter to your aunt , I considered burning it. That way the ARL would be kept hidden forever , and you would not be in danger because of it. But I would be depriving you of something you so much deserve. I have no right to keep that from you. I could not forgive myself. The ARL belongs to you now.
Good luck , my dear , sweet Tom. tell Sarah and your father that I love them both , as I love you.
Mom
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