A Matter of Time

Marty and Victoria walked back into their apartment, dumbfounded. How do you react when you show up to say hi to you?

And what is your purpose?

"I don't believe it. Just some joke. Someone's putting one over on us. Probably someone from your physics lab."

But Marty already knew it wasn't possible.

"Victoria, nobody knows about fluid theory. I've not even written it down. I have thoughts from some scientific research I've read, but it's all up here," he said, tapping his index finger to his temple.

And nobody knew what she'd seen when it came to her sister and brother-in-law. Who else could have known that except for herself? But why share such an intimate secret out loud? How humiliating. Even if it didn't state what she'd witnessed, any first-year criminal justice major could figure it out. She'd seen sex. She'd seen her sister's back arching and heard her sister's moans -- a smile across her face -- as she experienced sex, what was supposed to be a dirty, sinful experience.

It was like it was yesterday. Victoria had been in a walk-in closet looking for a bra for her 18-year-old breasts after having gotten out of a shower -- and then she heard the noise of her sister and new husband as they walked in, piled on the bed and began grinding against one-another.

Her sister quickly started panting as her brother-in-law rubbed between her legs. Victoria covered her naked breasts with her hands and wanted to get out of the room, but didn't want to be seen naked -- and didn't want it to be known she'd witnessed the lust.

So she sat in the closet, quietly -- occasionally glancing between the door and frame as her sister pulled her husband's cock -- and then took it in her mouth. It was disgusting. And intriguing.

Victoria looked away and looked back. It was like a visual drug. She tried to hug her ears tight as her sister began moaning those words. "Fuck me." How dare her act like such a ... whore.

But she did. And her brother-in-law began thrusting deep inside her over and over -- their bodies crashing and moans increasing in frantic gasps.

It was terrifying. And intoxicating. And Victoria was scared that someone knew that about her.

"So, we just go out there, and meet these people? These strangers?" Victoria asked.

The implications, the implications, Marty thought. Does it make sense? Why meet yourself? Why not meet Einstein or Telsa and get their take on time-travel? Why not go back in time, to when Hitler was a child, and toss his juvenile-life in front of a train?

Marty looked at the clock. It was a bit after 5 p.m. and he wanted to do some writing. He kissed Victoria, his tongue lapping into her mouth. She enjoyed it, but didn't want to. She was tempted. After all, she thought, they are married in the future.

Or this is some sort of crazy joke. Maybe even the Devil himself casting nets to catch purity. The Devil does walk amongst us, she'd been taught. Especially in college towns where sin was status quo.

She felt violated and wanted a cold shower to wash her head of these thoughts.

"I need to write down a few formulas," Marty said.

"I need to take a shower," Victoria noted. Marty thought it was odd, but didn't question it.

In the shower, she felt her body -- more so than normal. Just lightly along her rising breasts, her hips ... and a glancing touch along the rise of her clit. She was wet, and felt guilty. And horny. And she couldn't quite shake the feeling -- but she would. She always did.

One hour, 50 minutes later, Marty and Victoria the younger walked down Kirkwood to their favorite eatery. They wore their best outfits. Her blouse had flowers, the shoulders padded, her knee-length skirt pleaded. Marty was decked out in a pair of Bugle Boy slacks and an Izod collared shirt. He'd debated wearing just a pair of acid-wash jeans and an Ocean Pacific surfer shirt, but he wanted to be taken seriously. And if it was a joke, they could still just enjoy dinner before going home to kiss a bit before returning to their individual beddings.

"Hello," said the woman greeting them at the door. She recognized them as regulars and had her instructions. "I have a private booth for you. Your parents are already seated," she said.

Their breathing was off-kilter. Parents. It was a part of the ploy, or the prank. Which, they were about to discover.

Looking upon an older version of yourself is more difficult than a younger version.

Humanity has perfected photographs and memories are in reverse, not forward. So as Marty and Victoria approached the table and saw their older selves, they were worried and awestruck and cautious.

Martin waved them toward the table, and felt his mind racing. What was going on in his head? Was he about to have a stroke in this moment of success? Watching yourself die probably wouldn't be a good thing for his younger self. No, it wasn't a stroke. He looked at his wife of 35 years. She was experiencing the same feelings.

"You OK?" he said, looking at her and looking back at their younger selves.

"Um, yeah," she said. "Just ... a bit..."

"Yeah, I know. I'm feeling it, too."

"Hi," Marty said, shaking the hand of the older gentleman. "Good evening," Vicki said, taking the fingers of her younger self as she stood up to say hello. Damn, she thought, I was slamming, even in with those shoulder pads.

Marty sat down and looked at himself. He was young and better looking than he'd anticipated. Maybe that's why that stripper throws herself at him in a few days. Maybe that's why he had such crazy sex with her, unprotected. It was a stupid move and had to be avoided.

"Forgive me, for just a moment," Martin said. "My wife, Vicki, and I are having ... well, new memories installed."

She was closing her eyes slowly and opening them back up. She seemed momentarily dazed but not confused.

"Yes, that is it," she said. "I remember meeting myself now. Wow, Martin."

"Yes. This should have been anticipated. I don't know why I didn't think about this?"

Marty and Victoria looked at them. They looked so similar. Same size, same basic frame. Same eyes, lips, nose. They were just older. That's all. And they were acting a bit out of sync.

"May I ask what's wrong," Victoria said. Her strength had always been in helping others, be they sinners or saints, but never herself.

"Nothing, my dear," Vicki said as she licked her lips. "It's just, as we speak, we are having new memories added to our old memories. I started experiencing it earlier and thought it was just deja vu. But I now remember finding the envelope and talking with Amber about..."

"About us," her husband finished. "Yes. I thought it was just a day dream as well. But now, it's like ... well ... not bad ... but like feedback in our memories. As we speak, we're not only growing our new memories of this moment, but we're having old memories overlap our other memories of 1989."

But he didn't think he'd lost memories of the other days. It would take a few days to figure out. Because the sex with Janet. She was a stripper -- a girl who had given him a blow job during his freshman year when she was a sophomore -- had seemed unforgettable at the time. When he avoids it this time, will that memory be completely erased? Or will it stick around like he had been a dream? He wasn't sure.

He kinda hoped it stuck around. Sure, the events of that day screwed up his life in 324,483 ways since 1989, but the sex with Janet was pretty damn hot. It happens in two days, when he and Victoria were in a huge fight. He liked the idea of at least remembering the sex in a dream-like fashion, but the other events of that day need to be adjusted.

He looked at his wife-at-20. She was so desirable 35 years ago and -- he glanced at his wife -- she was desirable now. He was here with Vicki to help keep her out of harm's way. The rape takes place in two days -- and while he didn't want to change all of history, they needed to tweak it so she wasn't harmed by that unknown rapist.

"So," Marty said. "What happens in the next three decades?"

"Well," Martin responded. "That's not as important as what happens in the next three days."

Victoria looked at her older self.

"What? What happens?"

Vicki looked at her younger self.

"We can't say too much. But we're here to steer you two clear of some troubles."

The four spoke, sometimes haphazardly, about life and their experiences. They were apprehensive as 20-year-old college students. But their older selves were open.

"Listen," Vicki said to the young couple, "you're going to learn to love one-another -- but if we don't change the immediate future, it is a long two decades ahead. Full of fear and sadness and depression. But if we help, we can make the next three decades great for you."

Marty looked at his wife, or, his girlfriend's self in her 50s. She looked like she loved life. Like she loved it.

Martin looked at his younger self.

"To answer your question, Marty, you two learn to love sex. Love it, together."

Victoria bit her lip. Why would this be a topic? Was he really that concerned about sex?

Vicki remembered the thoughts, fresh in her head as they appeared in the younger Victoria.

"Yes, Victoria. Sex is important to you as a couple. You don't know it yet, but you're going to love sex." She leaned forward, saying loud enough for the men to hear. "You're even going to love fucking."

Victoria was aghast. How would she ever speak this way? What had gotten into her, aside from a man's penis, in the next 30 years?

Martin laughed a bit. This was actually fun. But he didn't want his young bride to feel completely awkward.

"Marty, let me see the drawings. I think your figures are off." He remembered the formulas now as he'd written them. It was a type of deja vu -- but scientists were going to have to rename this. It was memory capture, maybe.

How did this guy know he'd done some drawings? It was bizarre. Marty pulled the paperwork from a folder and showed them, how he thought fluid time would work.

"This is good," he said. "And not quite there. You're missing a key ingredient that won't be available until 2017. But you'll get there. Obviously."

"2017? That's so far away."

The older couple laughed. Life seemed so far away at the beginning of a timeline. But then it moves so fast, and you can't stop it. Not until now. At least, the timeline could be readjusted.

After an hour of verbal sparring, the couples took a walk onto campus. They walked to the fountain where people kissed and both couples followed suit, kissing their partner. The young couple barely touched their lips. The older couple passionately kissed. They hadn't been to campus for years, and this was so crazy that they were enjoying every private moment out in the public.

They were horny again. So was the younger couple, but Victoria had already decided she was going to lock herself in the bathroom and take a cool bath until her future husband went to sleep in his bedroom. This "fucking" talk was not her. She didn't know what happened, but she didn't like the idea of being someone who talked like that. Like Amber, across the way, with all of her sinful ways. Victoria was polite to her, but she knew -- her ways were the ways that pleased Satan, not the Lord.

Before parting ways, Martin and Vicki spoke to Marty and Victoria.

"We have a mission," Martin said. "We'd like to take you to out tomorrow after your 11 a.m. classes, OK?"

"OK," Marty said.

"And we're going to separate you for a few hours tomorrow," Vicki said.

"OK," Victoria said, hesitating.

"It's OK, Vicki. We're you. We're only here to help."

Victoria didn't know what to do. She wanted to look in her Bible. Maybe there was a mention of time-travel and how to respond to it. She would have to pray hard.

"That's silly," Vicki said. "But I understand why you'd want to try that. Things are changing, but you're going to survive this. Your faith is about to be tested, and your faith may be adjusted, but you're going to be OK."

Vicki and Martin walked away -- back toward their hotel. They were going to make love tonight. Long, luxurious touches for the couple. And they'd sleep soundly next to one another, lovers forever. Their younger selves were going to go home and deal with all of these new realities. They'd find it almost impossible to sleep, 10 feet apart.