I followed Peter’s slow progress into the small kitchen. There was a vague aroma left over from lunch; the smell of bacon wafted from the ancient stove. Peter pointed his cane to the refrigerator. Stuck to the appliance with a magnet was a calendar. I could tell that it was from National Geographic by the yellow rectangle. I peered closer to the calendar in order to determine the year.
I flipped the calendar to the cover page. And there I saw it. Something so unbelievable under normal circumstances, but almost believable based on everything that had happened in the last two days. The year on the cover, in an old but fancy brown font, was 1942. I looked back at Peter. He smiled at me.
“Welcome to the past,” he said. “Would you like to try some butterscotch cookies?”
I stared at him, nearly stunned. What was happening? Had I never awoken from the dream about the Grim Guider? The thoughts swirled through my head, each more complicated than the next, as I searched for a solution, a explanation, for the events that were occurring. And then the answer came to me.
“Could you tell me what is going on?” I asked Peter.
“Of course I will,” said Peter. “I thought you would never ask. Why don’t you come and we’ll talk in the sitting room over some butterscotch cookies…”
Peter seemed like a completely different person now. He was no longer a frail old man; he had energy, a twinkle in his eye, and most importantly, a presence. He no longer looked dazedly into his own world. He walked with more purpose, as well. Faster than we had left, we sank back into our armchairs. I waited for him to say something, anything that would help explain what was happening.
“Do you often find yourself thinking about time paradoxes?” asked Peter.
“Yes,” I said at once, surprised. “How did you know?”
“You seem to be from somewhere in the future, am I correct?”
“And how would you know that?”
“Firstly, your bewilderment at the time period suggests that you have never lived during this time. Also, your clothes are unlike anything from the current decade, and other decades adjacent.”
“Very good. But how did you know about all of the time paradoxes?” I asked.
Peter reached for his coffee mug and drained the last of its contents. He rested it on the table with a small clatter and continued.
“Those are the ones that are generally targeted,” said Peter simply. I waited for more, but it did not come.
“What? What do you mean, targeted?” I asked, intrigued.
“That is something you do not need to know. However, I take it that you spend quite a bit of time pondering time paradoxes and various theories related to time. Would you care to tell me about some of these?”
And so, without a second thought, I delved into a description of everything I had been thinking about time paradoxes and theories in the last several weeks. We discussed everything from the grandfather paradox, to the theory of rejoining branches, to whether the chaos theory is substantial enough to change big events. The time flew as we chatted, and it was by accident that I checked my watch and saw the time.
“Mr. Blank, I really must be going. My parents will be home soon, and it would look strange to be departing from such a house…”
As I said these words, my mind returned to wondering about how I could be in the 1940’s inside of a house, but everywhere else in the same world was in the present day. I realized that Peter still had not told me what was going on. And so as I was about to leave, I stuck my head back into the sitting room.
“Mr. Blank, would you mind telling me what is going on here? Why have I come into this time period now? How can the same world have two different tracks of time?”
Peter smiled and shook his head. “That’s for another time, young man.”
Knowing that I would not get an explanation until later, I waved goodbye to him and headed for the door. As I did, I heard him call my name quietly. Pausing, I turned back.
“Yes?” I called.
“Say hello to the Grim Guider for me tonight.”