A New Years Story; Time Travel Therapy

Marcus Mann awoke as his alarm went off on New Years Eve at 8 am. He rolled out of bed, eyes still heavy, reached on his nightstand for a cigarette and lit it up. As he finished, he took his clothes off, looked in the mirror, thought to himself damn I look so bad, I need to lose weight, he reached for his notebook and wrote yet another New Year's resolution that deep down he knew would not be unsuccessful, like all the others on his list from years prior. He got in the shower and headed out to work. As he walked down the sidewalk to the bookstore, looking through the shop windows, as he did every day, for years. He was beginning to feel like he was just going through the motions, a fat middle aged single man, living alone, no real friends. He looked down at his notebook full of new year's resolutions with check boxes next to them, all of them unchecked. It read.

• 

  Make new friends

• 

  Find a girlfriend
  

• 

  Start own bookstore

• 

  Write a book

• 

  Quit smoking

• 

  Stop watching so much TV

• 

  Lose 50 pounds

As he was looking at his notebook he bumped into someone and spilt his coffee all over his shirt “ahh shit” he said, the stranger somehow completely untouched by the coffee said “oh, sorry man, my bad” Marcus looked at him for a second, a bit angry, before saying “it’s fine, It’s whatever” the guy responded by handing Marcus a light green handkerchief and said “here man, you can keep that, sorry again” as he headed the other way. Marcus waved and said “thanks, it was my own fault anyway”. As Marcus stood there using a window as a mirror wiping his shirt off, he noticed a bulletin board with only a single bulletin. A light green sheet of paper that read

TROUBLE FULFILLING YOUR NEW YEAR’S RESOLUTION?

MAKE FULFILLING YOUR NEW YEAR’S RESOLUTIONS, YOUR NEW YEAR'S RESOLUTION!!! LEARN HOW HERE AND NOW…

He read the bulletin and took a small piece of paper from the bottom marked with an address that he didn’t recognize at a time that was too late for him, but he figured what the hell put it in his pocket and continued to the bookstore.

He arrived at the bookstore where his boss, Dan Kayler immediately said “hey your late” Marcus looked at his watch, it read 9:01AM, “only by one minute” he said, Dan snapped back “that’s still late, you know a lot can happen in a minute” “did something happen?” Marcus asked, “that’s not the point Marcus” Dan said before continuing “the point is that you start at nine, not nine o one, got it?” Marcus mumbled “ya, ya” “what’s that? I didn’t hear you, I asked if you got it?” Dan asked angrily, “YES, I got it” Marcus answered. Dan spoke again “good, oh and I almost forgot, I’m gonna need you to stay late tonight, close up around ten ok” Marcus said “oh come on I was gonna do something tonight” Dan responded “ya, you gotta close up for me, because I actually have stuff going on” “fine whatever, how much overtime will I get?” Marcus asked. Dan just laughed and said “maybe if you were on time, but considering you were late, we’ll just call it even” Marcus said “oh come on Dan I was literally just one minute late, you know that’s not right” Dan said “excuse me? First of all, late is late and second, it’s Doctor Kayler to you” Marcus mumbled under his breath “dawg we work at a bookstore no one cares about your PhD in English lit.” “What was that?” Doctor Kayler asked, “um nothing, I’ll close up you have a good time” “ya, you too” Doctor Kayler said mockingly as he walked away laughing.

Doctor Kayler left at nine at night and at ten Marcus locked up the shop. As he began walking home, he reached in his pocket for a cigarette and pulled out the slip of paper he got from the bulletin, there's still time to make it he thought as he continued walking. He reached an intersection where he could either go straight continuing home or turn right to go to what he thought was a self-help seminar for New Years Resolutions. He thought for a moment. He had never put much stock in self-help. It seems he had bought every self-help book under the sun and thought most seemed mundane and cliche at best and a total scam at worst. But for some reason this one felt different. He said “fuck it” to himself and turned right toward a part of town he was unfamiliar with. A few minutes later he saw an old brick building, checked the card and then the address of the building and said to himself “this looks like the place” as he opened the door and went inside.

Inside looked completely different, like he was in a completely different world. An all-white room with a white leather chaise lounge psychiatrist couch, a white armchair, and white table between them. The door blended perfectly with the room as it closed it could not even be seen in the bright, now entirely white room. Marcus was surprised, this did not feel like a lecture hall, and he was the only one there. He decided to walk over and sit on the day bed thinking whatever seminar this was supposed to be, was running late. As he sat there, he once again looked over his new year’s resolutions in his notebook. Thinking about them and which ones he might most like to work on. As he looked over his notebook pondering his failure, a voice echoed close by “so rigid” Marcus looked up shocked to see an old man with wrinkles all over his body, each one seeming to tell a story etched on his near grey parchment-like skin. Marcus was still surprised, staring at the old man for a minute before he spoke “like rings of a tree” Marcus replied “huh?” “You were looking at my wrinkles, wondering how old I am” Marcus nodded slowly, mouth still open in shock. As the old man continued “count them if you want to know, like rings of a tree” Marcus still gathering his thoughts asked, “why don’t you just tell me?” “I would if I knew, you see I have existed since before time began and will long after it ends, but enough about me, let’s talk about you and your rigid self-defeating promises that you and I both know you won’t keep” the old man said. “The- these are goals” Marcus responded, the old man now inexplicably a baby wearing a sash that read New Year with the year shifting from start to finish giggled and spoke “goals or boxes?” in a high-pitched giggly baby voice yet still sounding just as wise. Marcus looked around, even more surprised “who-what?” “c’mon you don’t recognize Baby New Year?” the baby asked in the same giggly wise voice, “or Father Time?” the baby said now an old man again, voice echoing from nowhere yet everywhere just as it did before.

Marcus was shocked and said “I can’t believe I am talking to Father Time and Baby New Year, who are I guess, the same person, and they're criticizing me for having goals. “No, no you misunderstand, goals are fine, good even, but boxes, boxes are like prisons that keep us from them” Father Time said. “Well ok, but these are goals, not boxes” “there are literally boxes on that list” Father Time said with a straight face. “Those are check boxes, so I know when I have accomplished them” Marcus replied, before Father Time immediately jumped in “ahh, so goals are something you can fully accomplish? And know when you have?” Marcus looked puzzled before saying “Uh ya, of course” Oh silly me” Baby New Year said clapping his hands and giggling “here I was thinking goals are like progress or growth, something we aspire to, but never fully achieve” Marcus, looking more puzzled said “no, of course goals are something we can achieve, they always have been, people have been aspiring to and achieving goals for all of human history” Have they?” Father Time asked with a smirk, "Let's, see?” as the white walls of the room started to change, like an old TV being rewinded.

“Let’s start here” Father Time said as he snapped his fingers and the rewind stopped and the walls began playing a scene, like a screen, but much more immersive and realistic, like they were actually there. Father time continued speaking “The turn of the twentieth century, here we see people of old, walking, working, and trying to better themselves. Let’s follow this young lad” He pointed to a young boy in the gutter, walking into a newspaper office. “This boy Billy Weston, born poor, very poor, dreams of being rich, see he has his goals, he wants to be the richest man in the city” father time continued, before Marcus jumps in and says “and let me guess, he doesn’t accomplish it” “No, he doesn’t, he gets a job as a paperboy, over the years he becomes a journalist for the paper, than an editor, soon he runs this very office, marries a beautiful maiden, buys a small home, has a young boy of his own, who becomes the first one in his family to go to college” as father time is telling this story Marcus looks around as it plays out in real time in the room, like a movie he was in the middle of. Marcus looked confused and asked, “so did he accomplish his goal or not?” “yes” father time answered. This puzzled Marcus even more “what do you mean?” he asked “I mean he kept bettering himself, becoming more and more successful over his life, though he never did become the richest man in the city, he never even became rich, he topped out at upper middle class, but I still count that as a win, and you know what? He did too” Father time answered as he fast forwarded to the end of that boy's life. Now an old man on his deathbed, surrounded by the ones he loved, with a smile on his face as his life faded away. Nearly instantly it was his funeral Marcus heard his children and grandchildren talking. In the eulogy his eldest son said “My father was born a poor man, dreamed of being rich, and many may say he didn’t achieve it, but although he was never in the top tax bracket, he lived a full and successful life, he was able to send me to college, and I became the first in my family to go, and I knew he was proud of me, and I’m so proud that I could make him proud, I love you dad and to me you’ll always be the richest man in the world, here's to you” as he and everyone else raised a glass, Marcus wiped a tear from his eye saying “that’s so cliche” Father Time said “cliches are cliche for a reason, and that tear of yours seems to agree”.

Marcus spoke again “ok, so he became rich in the way that poor people say they are rich” “maybe they say that because that’s the way it matters” Father Time responded. “Ya, or because they’re so desperate not to be poor” Marcus said. “Perhaps, either way though they progress, they grow, in the end maybe they come up short, but they learn along the way, and that’s not nothing” Father Time said. “Ok, but ultimately, they still fail, they don’t accomplish what they set out to, how is that not a failure? How is that not a loss?” “First of all, those aren’t the same thing, sometimes a failure can be a win, and a loss can be a success” Father Time replied. “I don’t see how” Marcus said with a confused look on his face. “I’ll show you” father time responded as he snapped his finger and the rewind began again.

Now suddenly in a laboratory. Marcus jumped as glass seemed to break right next to him. “Observe, a figure I’m sure you are familiar with” Father time said as he motioned his hand toward a man working tirelessly over a bench, surrounded by light bulbs that have yet to light up. “Is that?” Marcus said as he got closer to the man and continued “it is, it’s Thomas Edison”. Father Time spoke “Indeed it is, the man who once said” he waved his hand to Thomas Edison saying “Many of life's failures are people that did not realize how close they were to success when they gave up” Father Time continued “and” waving his hand again to Edison saying “I have not failed, I just found ten thousand ways they won’t work” “as well as” Father Time waved his hand once more “our greatest weakness lies in giving up, the most certain way to succeed is to try just one more time”. Marcus heard these quotes before, but there was something surreal hearing them up close and personal, straight from the horse's mouth he thought but then he said, “but he still succeeded, he accomplished his goals.” “Well yes, but not quite the way he thought, the future brought more than he could've ever imagined, let’s explore another figure I’m sure you are familiar with” Father Time exclaimed as he twirled his finger, and the room spun as if moving through space while remaining in time. Suddenly Marcus saw himself in another lab. A warehouse-like building with tall coils shooting electricity in the air. “Is that- is that a Tesla coil?" Marcus asked as Father Time nodded and Marcus asked again “is this Nicola Tesla’s lab” Father Time nodded again “oh my god Nicola Tesla the man that tried to give the world free electricity but failed” Father Time shook his head and said “no, not really, see Edison and Tesla were both brilliant inventors, their technologies were revolutionary, but in different ways” Marcus looking puzzled said “but Tesla failed, he thought wireless electricity was possible, but that was never realized” “wasn’t it though?” Father Time asked. Marcus, still looking puzzled as Father Time continued as the room began fast forwarding again, “radio, television, wireless internet, technologies that are ubiquitous today are all based on the ideas, discoveries and inventions of Nicola Tesla. See while Edison was revolutionizing the world of today thinking he was revolutionizing the world of tomorrow, Tesla was revolutionizing the world of tomorrow, thinking he was revolutionizing the world of today, both successful but in ways they didn’t and couldn’t have possibly imagined.

Marcus stood still, looking around at the montage of technological advancements, and pondering their significance. After a long moment he began to speak “ok, I get what you are saying, but I’m no Tesla, or Edison” “NO” Father Time yelled before continuing “you don’t get what I’m saying, did you forget about Billy Weston? The first boy we saw, he was no Thomas Edison or Nicola Tesla either. Nonetheless he was revolutionary in his own way, to his own family, maybe you need to see more” he says, all of the sudden Baby New Year again clapping his hands and giggling as once more the room fast forwarded.

2130, driverless cars, maglev trains, public fruit trees along public trails, along with holographic advertisements. “Where are we?” Marcus asked, “when” Baby New Year answered. Marcus, looking confused, asks again “what?” “When are we, would be the more proper question as our location in space has not changed” Baby New Year said, still clapping and giggling. Marcus looked irritated and said, “oh come on you obviously knew what I meant, but whatever fine, when are we?” Baby New Year answered simply "common era 2130”. “Well, where is everybody?” Marcus asked Baby New Year just pointed to weird looking wagon-like things with identical front and backs. Marcus looks where Baby New Year was pointing, then back at Baby New Year looking confused, he shrugs and says “huh? What are those things?” “Cars, well kinda” Marcus looks back and forth saying “what? No way, those are not cars ""well yes you are correct, calling them cars would be like calling the cars you know horse drawn carriages” Baby New Year responded with a clap and a giggle. Looking around Marcus noticed brick buildings, graffiti stains, and potholes, he said “well this doesn’t look like the future” “Oh really, tell me what does the future look like?” Baby New Year asks. “Well, you know it looks like flying cars, shiny metal, vacuum trains. This looks like a Disneyland town square, not a future utopia” Marcus answered. “Oh really, huh, when I pictured a future utopia, I pictured a solar punk Disneyland Town Square, I’m pretty sure that’s why Disneyland designed their town square the way they did, but I guess it doesn’t have enough shiny alloys, flying cars, or vacuum trains, Driverless cars, maglev trains, and brick in a solar punk version of the happiest place on earth isn’t enough huh? Please tell me more about the future mister future expert” Baby New Year said sarcastically with a smile, a giggle and fast blinking eyes. Marcus responded “Ok, you don’t need to be a smart ass I just thought”- “I know you had your own image of the future, just as sci fi writers a hundred years ago pictured cars as wagons pulled by robotic horses, they had their image too your time wouldn’t look like the future to them either, progress is never as we imagine it, but it is perpetual, look around brick yes, but projected images, like free TV in the outside, driverless cars, so people can actually watch that TV, fruit trees all along the trails for all to enjoy no stamps needed. Marcus looks around again, eyes open for the first time he sees smiling kids grabbing apples from the trees, people peering out their windows to watch TV as they drive laughing and loving life. Finally, he speaks “ok, I guess this is pretty cool, but how’d we get here? Wasn’t it people setting goals and accomplishing them?” Baby New Year claps his hand and says “let’s see” as the room rewinds once again.

In a bustling office, Marcus hears coffee being made and people talking. Above hangs a sign that reads Progress Publishing Foundation. “Here we are, just a little way beyond your present, a non-profit science, technology, art, and mathematics foundation for publishing and progress”. On the walls Marcus noticed solar punk artwork, book boards and photographs of two people that looked eerily familiar. He also noticed labs, printing presses and a bookstore nook in the back. He asked, “what is this place?” Baby New Year pointed to the sign above and said “the progress publishing foundation” Marcus looked disappointed and asked again “No, I mean I know that, I can read, but like what is that? What does this place do?” Baby New Year answered, “it publishes artwork and books, as well as encouraging scientific and technological advancement through scholarships, resources and donations.” “So, it has a goal then?” “Yes, but no boxes, it is not set with some rigid futurist image, its goal is simply progress” “well then how will they know when they accomplish it?” Marcus asked before Baby New Year immediately responded, “progress is not something you accomplish it is something you do, and they will know they are doing it as they progress, no boxes, look around, do you see a single box?” Marcus looked around, surprisingly Baby New Year was correct: not a single box in sight, books, pictures, equipment, plants, lights, projectors, yet no boxes really of any kind. As Marcus looked around, becoming more and more impressed as he took in all the beautiful sights, sounds, and smells, Baby New Year spoke “art is how we imagine the future and science is how we build it”.

    After all of this Marcus is feeling overwhelmed. Baby New Year claps his hands, and the room is blank again. Marcus looks around and says “so what now? What do I do now? Baby New Year smiles and says simply “progress”. The word echos as he disappears leaving Marcus alone with his thoughts. After a moment Marcus takes out his notebook and rips out the page of resolutions, crumples it up and throws it on the ground. He then takes a pen and writes on the next page in all capital letters with explanation points after that one simple word; PROGRESS!!!  He then heads to the door that opens automatically as he approaches it and walks out. As he steps outside to the dark alley, he looks back in the room one more time and says “Happy New Year” smiles and walks back home. When he returns home, he immediately starts writing. At first it is just some ramblings about what he had experienced and his thoughts but soon grows into a coherent manifesto about perpetual progress. Too energized to sleep he is up all night until the sunrises in the New Year. He realizes he has about 40 pages. He leans back in his chair, reaches for a cigarette in his pocket and takes out that light green handkerchief he had been given earlier. Looking at it he realizes it is embroidered with the surname WESTON.

Suddenly he jumps up, gets onto his computer and researches Weston. He finds a picture of the Weston Publishing House with the man that had given him the handkerchief marked as Billy Weston the Fourth. He suddenly has an idea, grabs his manuscript and goes to that publishing house immediately. Once inside the house he asks the receptionist “Is Billy Weston here? I’d like to speak to him." The receptionist, looking overworked and tired, answers with another question “do you have an appointment?” “No, he just lent me something I’d like to return,” Marcus responds. The receptionist replies “ok, lemme see if he is available” as she walks to the back. She returns with Billy who recognizes Marcus immediately and says, “oh hey man, do you need a check for dry cleaning those clothes?” As he reaches into his pocket and takes out his checkbook. “No, no, thank you, but that’s not why I’m here, I wanted to return this” Marcus says as he hands the handkerchief to Billy. Billy looks surprised and says “oh, well thanks I appreciate it, but I told you that you could keep it” “I know, but it was embroidered with your surname, it didn’t feel right keeping something that personal” Marcus responded. “Well, I do appreciate the thought, but I have hundreds of them, it’s not that personal of a thing” Billy says as he looks at Marcus’s arms holding the manuscript, points to it and asks, “what’s that?” “Oh this it’s just something I wrote last night” Marcus answered. Billy’s face lit up as he said excitedly “you’re a writer? Mind if I take a look?” He reaches his hand out as Marcus responds “no, I mean I would hate to waste any more of your time, you must be busy” Billy said “please do I look busy? Please come back to my office with me” as he walks to the back Marcus followed. Billy continues “honestly my Great Grandfather started this business, and it seems I might be the one to end it, I guess that’s what you get for earning a master's in engineering and thinking you can run a publishing house. I was never interested in that. I wanted to be one of those tech bros but then my father got sick, and I couldn’t bear the thought of the family business going under so I took over, now it seems it might go under anyway.” Marcus said “oh I’m so sorry to hear that, I wish there was something I could do” Billy laughed and said “well if your book is any good, you have already done it” as they arrived at Billy’s office, he took a seat and began reading Marcus’s manuscript.

Billy was a speed reader and was done surprisingly quickly. As he put down the manuscript, he looked shocked and overwhelmed, but in a good way. He said this is one of the most revolutionary things I’ve ever read and publishing it would save my family's business, but I actually have a better idea, in the spirit of progress and publishing. How would you like to go into business with me? We could transform this Publishing house into a Science Technology, Engineering, Art, and Mathematics center. I could run the science side, and you could run the art side, I could save my family’s business through progress, what do you say? Marcus looked shocked and said “I mean are you serious? Yes, yes” as they shook hands Billy took a polaroid of him and put it next to his own picture on the wall behind his desk and Marcus thought oh my god it was me and Billy. As Billy asked, “So what do you think we should call our new venture?” Marcus smiled and said, “how about the Progress Publishing Foundation”!!!

THE END