Futures
On the last afternoon of my seventeenth year, June 6, 1925, I waited outside the school where my father taught music. My best friend Molly was with me.
“What do you want for your birthday?” she asked me.
“You know what I want, Molly. I want to leave Elmwood and go to college.”
“Yeah, you want to be a famous scientist. Girls don’t get to be famous scientists!”
“Marie Curie did. The only person ever to win two Nobel Prizes.”
“I want to go with you!”
“What about your family?”
“You and Al are my real family, Elle.”
A shout, “¡Ojos de Esmerelda. Ojos cafes!”
It was my father, Albert Gardiner, compact, dark-eyed, dark-haired, musical of voice.
Molly said, “Elle’s eyes are emeralds, and mine just coffee?”
“Sorry, Molly, I don’t know any dark brown gemstones.”
“Coffee is more important than emeralds,” I said.
“You are so right, Ellie,” said Father.
We all went home together.
Father and Molly sat down for her guitar lesson. After a while, Father said “Here’s something for you, Molly.” He strummed and sang,
“Would you dance with her, Molly?
It’s Saturday Night.”I took Molly’s hand and pulled her to her feet.
“You’re fine and so bright—
You’re my Ellie’s delight.”I took her other hand in mine and swung her around. Father continued,
“The Devil would die if you danced one with her.
The Devil will die when she dances with you.”I sang,
“Sing with me Molly.
It would be such a treat.
To move to your sound,
Your voice is so sweet.”Molly laughed. “You two ambushed me. Give me a moment, Al.” Father nodded and kept the music going. Then she said, “OK, I’ve got something.”
She drew my hand to her shoulder, then lowered her own to my waist and drew me close. I said, “Eep!”, or words to that effect, and she told me, “It’s a waltz, Elle.”
“It is?” I squeaked.
Father’s calm voice said, “Yes, Ellie, 3/4 time. Waltz tempo.”
Molly sang,
“I’ll dance with my Ellie,
I’ll go where she goes.
I’ll follow her lead,
In poetry or prose.
If she keeps her big feet
Off of my toes.”Father struck a loud discord. We broke apart, laughing. Molly was flushed, breathless, her eyes shining. I gaped at her and thought, “How did I not know before now how beautiful Molly is?”
Molly asked, “Are you alright, Elle?”
I answered, “I’m fine,” although honestly, I felt dazed. Something had happened. What had just happened to me?
Molly said to Father, “That’s lovely music, Al. Did you write it?”
He answered, “No, it’s called ‘Poor Boy’s Delight’. I’ll teach you.”
Molly took her guitar and sat down next to Father on the couch.
Afterward, Father told her, “Sing it tomorrow.” She gave him a puzzled look and went home.
Next morning, when I entered the living room, Father greeted me, “Happy Birthday!”
“Eighteen years old! I’m an adult now.”
The strangest thing: An empty door frame stood against the wall.
“Why is there a doorway to nowhere in our home?”
“It’s your birthday surprise. It will take us to your mother.”
“But she died when I was born.”
“No. She left this world. She is nowhere on Earth now. But this portal can take us to her When.”
“I’ll play along,” I thought. Aloud I said, “How does it work? What do we need to do?”
“We will need to prove ourselves.”
“How?”
Father said “Music, the art made from time.” He began to play and said, “Now, sing. You know this.”
I did,
“I see trees of green, red roses too…”
I nearly jumped out of my skin when we finished the song, because the door spoke, “Alberto Gonzalez, Elliotte Gardiner authenticated. ‘What a Wonderful World,’ Louis Armstrong, 1967. Target?”
“Seven June 2025,” Father answered.
2025!
The empty door frame turned black. Father took my hand and pulled me toward it.
I had a horrible thought, “Can we come back?” I asked.
“No,” he answered, “this is a one-way trip. You have always said you wanted to leave Elmwood. This is your chance. You can go to college Then.”
“But what about Molly? Can she come, too?”
“We can’t take anyone else with us. The door has accepted us, but no other.”
Tears started to my eyes. “I can’t leave Molly behind.”
“Ellie, do you trust me?”
“How can I? I just learned that you’ve lied to me all my life.”
“That’s fair. But Ellie, I promise if you follow me you won’t regret it.”
My heart breaking, I took his hand and we stepped through the door.
We emerged in a place like none I had ever seen. There were half a dozen people here, so strangely dressed! In front of me stood a woman, perhaps thirty years old, with my eyes and hair.
She spoke, “Alberto! My God, it’s so good to see you.”
I was a little shocked at the blasphemy. Elmwood women didn’t say, “My God.”
Father answered, “Anne, this is your daughter Elliotte.”
I gaped at her. This was my mother? But she was so young.
Father, probably thinking the same thing, read my mind, “Time travel, Ellie.” Oh, right.
Then I jumped. Everyone did, because the door had made a loud, high-pitched noise. A familiar voice behind me said, “Budge over, beanpole.”
I budged over, and she stepped to my side—Molly.
Afterword
The songs are “Poor Boy’s Delight”, by The Infamous Stringdusters, 2007, (Alberto, Elle, and Molly change the lyrics) and of course “What a Wonderful World,” by Louis Armstrong (and covered more times than anyone can count), 1967.
The cover image is a phase portrait of
The portrait is rotated 30° clockwise.
A phase portrait is a visualization of a complex function introduced by Elias Wegert in Visual Complex Functions: An Introduction with Phase Portraits.