Time Ghost



  TIME GHOST

  BY MANNY AUJLA

  Copyright © 2014 by Manny Aujla

  All Rights Reserved.

  PROLOGUE

  Muddy sneakers tread across the concrete sidewalk. The two ten-year old buddies, Miles and Charlie, walk side by side in silence. They head home with hockey sticks in hand after a crushing defeat to older kids from the neighborhood street hockey group.

  Charlie sports a bloody lip from an argument over a disallowed goal. He knew that he shot the tennis ball and it had hit the inside crossbar and popped out really fast. The goalie didn’t think so and since he was bigger and knew how to end arguments physically, the goal didn’t count. They lost the game by one goal.

  Drops of rain pat the two boy’s heads as they stop in front of an aging one-story house. The house is in dire need of new paint. The boys had planned to play video games at Charlie’s house but Miles knew his mother didn’t want him staying out too late. His mother is very over-protective but she had no choice because she raises Miles on her own. Miles’s dad had walked out on them when he was just a toddler. Miles always listens to his mother. He understands how hard it is for her to raise him as a single parent.

  Detroit isn’t the safest place to grow up, either. Every day, there is another violent crime on the news.

  The boy with the fat lip waves good-bye to the scruffy-haired boy and runs off. Miles stands there alone and rain begins to pour down around him. There used to be a car parked in the driveway, until it died. It’s in a local junkyard now. Miles and his mother have to rely on public transit.

  Miles notices spots of red on the ground that he knew weren’t there before. He scrapes the blade of his hockey stick over the spot and lifts it up to inspect. The white tape around his blade is now stained with red. Two thoughts go through Miles’s head. It’s either paint or blood. He notices the door ajar to his house and silently prays it’s not the latter.

  The door sways eerily in the wind. There are more red spots on the ground and lead up to the doorway. The doorknob is stained as well. Miles creeps towards the doorway and pushes the door wide open. “Mom?” he whispers.

  Miles Carter never forgot about that day twenty years ago. Every time it begins to rain, Miles scans the ground and looks for any red spots. He only finds pinkish gum, red French fry boxes, or pennies. He never spotted blood. Once was enough.

  Miles has long suppressed that moment he saw his mother’s lifeless body. But that moment has affected every aspect of his life. Countless child psychologist visits will never alter what his eyes witnessed.

  Fortunately, he has an Uncle that cared enough to put him through school. That’s where Miles really excelled in life. He was obsessed with school, but not to get a good job or even for knowledge. There was only one reason. It was everything to him. It is to learn a way to alter the past and save his mother.

  He feels this is possible and the answer is in science. Miles gets his hands on every time travel book and watches every movie on the subject. He is obsessed about time travel. It is the only thing that matters to him.

  This obsession had earned him a job at the top University in the state of Michigan. The University expects scientific breakthroughs from Miles and pays him well. But he has produced nothing yet. It has been three years. The University had recently sent him a letter that stated they are no longer going to support his research. Miles had opened the letter in front of a wall mirror and angrily put his right fist into it.

  Removing bits of glass from his knuckles wasn’t fun. His girlfriend, Lily, is a nurse and she was able to clean up the wound. Miles never told her the real reason why he smashed the mirror. Lily was used to his private nature so she didn’t pry.

  CHAPTER 1

  A newer gold Corvette convertible pulls into the lot of a coffee shop on a cheery spring afternoon. The sun is out in full force after a string of rainy days. The door cradles open and Miles smoothly gets out.

  His radiant eyes hide behind a pair of white sunglasses. A soft breeze waves through his dark hair. He fixes his black t-shirt with his left hand. The shirt displays a grey star on the front. He swaggers towards the coffee shop and flashes a smile at a cute girl who walks by him.

  He enters the coffee shop and hangs his sunglasses on his collar. He orders the usual vanilla latte with a shot of hazelnut syrup. He also manages to charm the early-thirties barista into giving him her phone number.

  Miles holds the hot drink in his injured right hand. The hand is bandaged from the incident the previous night, but the heat from the cup is soothing. The feeling reminds him that he needs to go to the mall to pick up a new wall mirror.

  Miles takes a sip from his latte and steps outside. A scraggly old hobo stands nearby. He reaches out with a filthy hand with a missing finger and hopes for some financial assistance. Strands of his long hair extend from a dirty red hat of the local hockey team.

  Hockey is one thing Miles never played again. He used to love playing hockey and making new friends through the street hockey games in the neighborhood. Instead, the sight of hockey sticks only brings back the painful memory of his blood-stained blade. He smashed that stick on a lamp post before the police drove up to his home.

  Miles ignores the hobo and heads towards the parking lot. The hobo calls out to Miles in a crackly voice. Miles usually never responds but this time he does. He stops and turns around.

  “Yes?” Miles replies with a smirk.

  “Could you spare a dollar?” utters the hobo. Miles laughs at the question. The hobo is taken aback.

  “Of course I can,” responds the cool but callous Miles. He reaches into his pocket very slowly. He lets the hobo ponder for a moment about what he is about to receive. Miles places his cup on the top of a metal mailbox and opens up his designer wallet. The hobo’s hungry eyes grow wide when he sees the hundred dollar bills inside the wallet. Miles rifles though the bills.

  “You will have to excuse me…I can’t find anything smaller than a hundred. Wait a second, spoke too soon,” Miles says as he pulls out a dollar bill. “What do you want a dollar for?” asks Miles, curiously.

  “I’m very hungry, sir,” the hobo answers.

  Deep down, Miles knew that this wasn’t the same hobo that broke into his home and robbed and murdered his mother. That man was put away and never survived very long in prison. But Miles can’t help but detest the man in front of him.

  “Well, I should help you out then,” Miles replies sarcastically.

  The hobo nods in agreement, clueless to the sarcasm. The crisp dollar bill crumples in Miles’s good hand. It disappears into a balled fist. A look of contempt washes over Miles’s darkened face as clouds block out the sun. Miles launches the crumpled bill it into the middle of traffic.

  “Go get it,” Miles spits out.

  The hobo’s worn eyes follow Miles as he heads towards his car. The hobo served in two wars to protect the freedom for people like Miles. He turns towards the street where the dollar sits.

  A pick-up truck drives over it…then a motorcycle. A bus screeches to a halt as the hobo lunges for the dollar. The thought of food kept him from noticing the oncoming bus. The hobo returns to the safety of the sidewalk. The bus driver screams out in anger at the hobo and drives off. The hobo wonders why he is still alive and others that served alongside him were not. He wonders about that every single day.

  Miles sits inside his car. He chucks his half-empty latte out the window. He reaches into his glove compartment that houses a few small sealed whiskey bottles. One less is sealed and the empty bottle shatters across the pavement.

  The tires squeal and smoke engulfs the rear license plate that reads “MILES.” The hobo stands there and watches Miles speed away. He shakes his head in disbelief. A couple en
joying ice cream cones cough as they inhale the smell of burned rubber. The gold blur becomes a speck in the distance as Miles heads downhill.

  CHAPTER 2

  A guinea pig sits still as tiny headphones slide over its ears. Jai Gill performs a top secret experiment in Miles’s lab at the University. The high windows let in sunlight that illuminates the rows of computers and equipment. Jai looks nerdy in his white lab coat but not as bad as nerds portrayed in television shows.

  He takes a deep breath and presses the play button on an iPod that is connected to the headphones. This better work, he hopes. The guinea pig scampers across the cage and then suddenly freezes. Jai’s eyes go wide. This could be the major scientific breakthrough Jai is working hard towards. He knows that his future depends on the success of this experiment.

  Jai has a healthy respect for Miles, but never believed in Miles’s time travel project. It is very hard to work with Miles, who is very stubborn. He is always cold towards Jai but is a true genius. Jai never takes a minute of being Miles’s assistant for granted. He owes a lot to Miles. If it wasn’t for Miles’s persistence, Jai might have dropped out of school.

  Jai’s parents are from India and grew up poor. When they came to America, their only child was born. All there hopes and dreams are put on Jai’s head. It is a lot of pressure.

  Jai learned a lot from Miles. He also learned about Miles’s obsession with the need to travel through time. Miles is very private and never speaks of his reasons why. It is very personal.

  Miles devoted his life to science to find a way to travel back in time to save his mother from being murdered. But Miles’s dreams were now collapsing. Jai had a suspicion that the University is unhappy with Miles’s lack of production. Jai comes in after hours to the lab and secretly works on his own project. Miles had discovered this but had not confronted Jai about it yet.

  Jai doesn’t believe in physical time travel. He works on a non-physical version of time travel. It is a form of time travel using your mind. And it is working.

  The guinea pig bobs his head up and down. Jai leans in closer and hears music coming from the headphones. Jai realizes he didn’t scroll to the right audio file. He picks up Miles’s iPod and finds the right track called “iFlux.” This is the experimental track that Jai loaded on to the iPod earlier. It consists of multiple vibrational frequencies that should put you to sleep and awaken you at the same time.

  Miles arrives outside the lab’s door. He scans his thumbprint against a panel and the door unlocks. He opens the door and finds Jai in his lab. Miles is agitated.

  “Why are you here?” he asks Jai. Jai is startled to be discovered in Miles’s lab without permission.

  “Hey, I didn’t expect you here over spring break,” responds Jai. He pulls the headphones off of the still guinea pig. The guinea pig snaps out of a trance and races around the cage. Jai is too preoccupied to notice that his invention may have just worked on the rodent.

  “What are you doing here?” asks Miles.

  “I was just finishing up some research before I leave on my trip,” answers Jai. Miles doesn’t remember that Jai was going on a trip over the break.

  “Is that my iPod?” Miles asks but knows the answer. Jai nods quietly and hands it over to Miles.

  “I was just borrowing it. You look messed up. What happened to your hand?” Jai asks politely after noticing the bandage. Miles sets the iPod on the table and glares at Jai.

  “This is my lab. Not yours,” Miles informs him. Jai starts to speak up but Miles cuts him off. “Get out my lab and don’t come back. You’re fired.”

  Those words sting Jai. He stares back at Miles and searches for a sign that he isn’t serious. Miles is definitely serious. Jai shakes his head in disappointment and lifts up the guinea pig cage. He forgets about the “iFlux” file he left on Miles’s iPod and leaves the lab.

  “Guess it’s just me and you now, GP,” Jai says to the guinea pig. A little squeak from GP assures Jai that they will be fine.

  Miles is alone now. He opens a drawer from his office desk and reads the letter that destroyed his world. He only sees the phrases “funding cut” and “services no longer required.” He rips the letter in half and throws it in the garbage. But he is still filled with rage. He grabs and hoists up a bulky CRT computer monitor and smashes it against the floor. It isn’t a smart thing to do with a recently cut hand. Blood seeps through the bandage as Miles painfully flexes his fingers.

  Jai is the only friend Miles has. It hurts him to treat Jai so poorly after all they have been through. But it is all over now, anyways. Without funding, the time machine will never be completed. Miles’s mother will never see him become a man. Miles looks towards the covered object against the wall. Underneath the cover is the laser shaped device that in theory would send a person through time. Tears begin to well up in his defeated eyes.

  The vision that he suppressed for twenty years creeps back into his head. A vision of his mother lying motionless on her back in a pool of blood that poured out of her slashed throat.

  “Mom…,” whispers Miles as tears trickle down his cheeks. His cell phone rings. Miles takes it out of his pocket and pitches it across the room. It smacks against the wall and the battery pops off. It was Lily.

  Miles sits down at his desk and finds a bottle of whiskey in the drawer. He proceeds to get drunk as he always does when his emotions get the better of him.

  Lily tries calling Miles again, later that night. She drives through the city on her way to the University to talk to Miles in person. She is concerned about him. Jai had got in touch with her and told her what happened between them. She knows Miles needs her right now.

  She noticed Miles become more and more distant in recent weeks. Not answering the phone is unusual, even for Miles. A brown and white Pomeranian named Rosie barks in her lap as she exits the highway. Rosie always cheers up Miles. He wanted her as soon as he saw her at the shelter. He even named her.

  Lily definitely wants Miles in a good mood before she tells him the good news that they are going to be parents in less than nine months. They have been together for almost a year, which flew by. She knows Miles well but not well enough to know how he would react to this life-changing situation. She hopes it will be a pleasant surprise.

  A black van speeds towards an intersection. It’s in a hurry because the two male occupants had just robbed a convenience store. The driver isn’t going to stop at the red light. He knows there is not much traffic in the evenings around this part of town. He feels that the light will turn green in time. They listen to the police radio application on a smartphone and know that they are being pursued.

  The driver slams the brakes when he sees Lily’s SUV drive through the intersection. It is too late. Lily gasps in fright as she sees a van rocket towards her. Metal crunches and glass shatters as the two vehicles collide.

  Miles is passed out at his desk. He wakes up, groggily. His head pounds through his skull from the drinking. The bottle is completely empty. He backhands the bottle off the desk and gets up with some uneasiness. He doesn’t feel any pain from his hand but the bandage is darker in color and needs to be changed.

  There’s some orange Gatorade left in a bottle on his desk. Miles gulps it down to the last drop. He rubs his head as he rummages through his drawers for more alcohol. He is distracted from his search when he comes across an old photograph of an elegant woman holding a baby. Miles forgot all about this photograph. He leans it carefully against the empty Gatorade bottle.

  Before he begins to cry, he gets up and stumbles to the back of the room. He strips off the cover from his metallic time machine. He pets the top of the machine, softly. He intends to use it. He plugs in the power and switches it on. It whirs to life. Suddenly, a hiss emanates from the machine and smoke engulfs the room.

  Miles races to the power cord and pulls it from the wall. The machine quiets down and the smoke dissipates. He realizes he has failed, miserably. This is the end, he thinks sadly. H
e makes his way to a metal combination safe in the corner of the lab. He takes a moment to remember what the combination is. He remembers and unlocks the safe. There’s a brown paper bag inside. He grabs the bag and takes his iPod from his desk.

  He sits in a black leather recliner in the lounge area of the lab. He places white noise-cancelling headphones over his ears and presses the play button on the iPod.

  He takes a long, deep breath. His mother in the photograph stares back at him from the desk. He looks away from the photo and nervously opens the bag. He withdraws a loaded handgun. The safety is on and he switches it off. He reclines backwards and closes his eyes, peacefully. He holds the gun with both hands and rests it just below his chest and the grey star on his shirt. He waits for a song to play. But it isn’t a song. It’s a soft hum.

  Miles impatiently opens his eyes to see what it says on the iPod. It’s the “iFlux” test file. The hum intensifies in the headphones. Miles’s body vibrates. The gun slips out of his grasp and drops to the floor. A wave of terror sweeps through him. He doesn’t realize what’s happening to him. The hum transforms into an excruciating high pitch squeal.

  Miles reaches up to remove the headphones but his hands feel like heavy dumbbells. They move up slowly against an invisible force. He loses control of his body. His eyes shut and his arms drop. His head falls back. He lies very still.

  CHAPTER 3

  There’s darkness everywhere. Miles stands in the middle of a muddy area between a watchtower and rows of small huts. He doesn’t remember what happened or how he got here. He thinks he is dreaming. He stands very still, afraid to move. He wonders if he used the gun. He slowly moves his head and sees his surroundings.

  The sky flashes as a bolt of lightning strikes down in the distance. Miles isn’t alone. There’s a man on top of the watchtower. The sound of thunder booms loudly through their ears. The man in the tower is Ralf Stahl. He resembles Miles.