[fiction] Time and Vengeance
You can't be too careful when messing with time.
by Nicole Passaggio, '21
Finally, it’s finished. For years, I have been working on this device, and now it’s actually done. I look down and admire it. It looks like a high-tech belt, but will allow me to travel into the past— at least, I hope. It might not work, but I have nothing left to lose.
Twenty years ago, my parents were murdered. They were shot in the heart, left with nothing but the white petals found at the crime scene. I soon learned that was the calling card of Christopher Price, notorious gangster.
I never did find out why he killed my parents. They were just ordinary accountants, but I gave up asking why a long time ago. He killed them, that’s all I needed to know. I would have found a way to kill him, but someone else already beat me to it. The killer, probably a rival gang, made it look like a suicide.
Whoever it was, they robbed me of my revenge. That is, until I realized that I could do better than kill him, I could destroy him. I could go back in time and kill him before he even built his criminal empire. I could kill him and save so many lives, including my parents.
I run upstairs to my bedroom and change into the outfit I had picked out just for this occasion. I admire the black dress, the sleeves that go down to my elbows, and the skirt that goes a little past my knees. I bought it from a vintage shop, not wanting to stand out in 1960. I put on the dress and the high heel shoes then look in the mirror. The dress fits perfectly, and my hair hangs downward, just barely reaching my shoulders. I’ll blend in nicely.
I go back to the closet and grab the coat I got to match the ensemble. My dress may work for the times, but there’s no way in hell that my belt won’t draw attention and my coat will cover it. This is finally it, and I smile, knowing my revenge is coming.
I had done plenty of research on Christopher Price, and I began to reiterate the information I needed. He built his empire around 1962 in Chicago, so I need to go back further than that. Luckily, as I was digging, I came across an old photograph of Price in a bar called Twist. Written on the back were the date, time, place, and names of those pictured. That was all I needed.
I go back downstairs to put on my belt and coat and head back, into the bedroom. I walk over to the copy of the painting The Persistence of Memory and move it to the side to unlock my safe. There are only two items in the safe. The only two items that I care about. One is a gun that I will use to shot Price through the heart. The second is my favorite book that my parents bought me, A Wrinkle in Time. I laugh at the irony. I reach for the book to pull out the preserved white petals from the pages, and carefully place them in the pocket of my coat.
I’m finally ready--press the buttons on my belt and with a whoosh I am transported back to February 29, 1960. My head screams, and my body starts shaking to its core. The pain is unbearable, like nothing I have ever experienced before. Just when I think I can’t take any more, it all suddenly stops. I slam to the ground and gasp for breath, look up and see a night sky. Scanning the landscape, my vision focuses on the neon sign across the street. I realize I made it, and whisper the sign name, “TWIST”.
Hearing it aloud makes me laugh and cry. I’ve done it! Finally, I will have justice for what this monster did to me. I shakily rise to my feet and button up my coat, composing myself. I can’t risk anything going wrong. Not now that I’ve come so far.
I take a step towards the bar, and an unexpected voice rings out through the night.
“Rachel Walker,” the voice says, and I jump and turn around. Standing behind me is a strange man in a hooded robe. I can’t see his face, but his voice sounds old, ancient even.
“Who are you?” I ask as fear and confusion war inside of me. “How do you know my name?”
“I am Time. I know all that has been, all that there is, and all that will be,” he says in that voice laced with wisdom and power.
I want to laugh and say he’s crazy, but I don’t. Some part of me feels that what he’s saying is somehow true. Besides, if I can travel through time, isn’t anything possible?
“You are about to violate nature twice over. I have come to warn you. Stop now and go home. Nothing good will come from what you wish to do” he says.
Anger boils inside of me as I clench my fists. What does he know?
“You have no idea what this man has put me through,” I growl at him. “He killed my parents. I was put in the foster system after that. The things they did to me there ... I will never repeat to anyone. He ruined my life!”
“I know all,” Time says. “I know your pain. You have every right to hate this man, but in your time, he is already dead. He cannot hurt you anymore.”
“He has hurt me every day for the last twenty years!” I scream at him. “He destroyed my life! I was seven years old and he took my parents from me. My parents who were wonderful and kind and loving. They didn’t deserve what he did to them. And his death did nothing. His empire still lives. This way, I will erase all that he has done. He will be forgotten in my time and I’ll get my parents back!” Tears begin to stream down my face. All that I want, all that I’ve ever worked towards my whole life, will be mine— it has to be.
“You cannot bring your parents back,” he says gently. “But you can live your life. Move on; use your gifts to help the world and focus on what you do have, not what you don’t.”
My tears stop and my anger increases. I take a step towards him, outraged by his words.
“As you are Time, I am Vengeance. For twenty years, I have devoted myself solely to this moment, when I can kill this monster and take back everything that was stolen from me, I don’t care what you’ll say. This will work. It has to. I have nothing left to lose!”
Time is quiet for a moment. The hooded figure shakes his head and then quietly says,
“You have no idea how much you still have left to lose. But you will.”
Before I can voice my objections, he blinks out of existence. What was there one minute had gone the next, and I wasn’t going to let my chance for revenge be taken from me again. I shake off the strange encounter and bring my focus back to my mission. I’ve come so far. I won’t let anyone, or anything stop me now.
I walk into the bar, the smell of smoke and burnt food greeting me in its dim interior. There, seated at a booth at the far end, is Price with his friends, taking a picture. The picture that’s inside my pocket. Part of me wants to cry out in joy: this is it! The moment I’ve waited decades for, but I restrain myself. There’ll be time enough for celebration.
I walk over to Price as he walks unsteadily to the bar. He slumps into a bar stool. I sit on the stool next to him.
“Can I buy you a drink?” I ask him.
He smiles at me and I fake one in return to hide the fact that my skin crawls at being so close to the monster.
“A man's supposed to be the one to ask that,” he says, leaning closer. His breath reeks of alcohol.
I shrug. “I like to do what I want and damn the consequences.”
He laughs, “A woman after my own heart. Alright, sweetheart. I never say no to a free drink.”
I order a round of shots from the bartender and pay with money I acquired just for this trip. Every bill was printed before this date; I made sure to cover all my bases. You truly can't be too careful when messing with time.
I spend the next hour getting Price drunk. I need him to be as inebriated as possible. He’s a strong man, a killer. If I’m to have a chance at this, he needs to be at his weakest.
“My wife’s been talking about putting down roots.” Price says. “So, I’ve been planning. I’m going to make something of myself. I’ve got a few deals in the works that’ll change my life.”
I smile, knowing I won’t let them. Assertively, I say, “I’m sure they will.”
After an hour of talking, I can tell he’s soon to be as drunk as he can be without passing out and so I step down from the stool and grab his arm. My stomach revolts at the touch, but I force it down. This is my moment.
“Come, on. Time to go.”
I half drag Price from the bar and struggle under his weight as he leans on me and I take him across the street and into a dark alley. Yes, this will do nicely. The perfect place for a rat to die. I release his arm and he stumbles to right himself.
“What are we doing here?” He asks slowly, still too drunk to process what’s happening.
I pull out my gun and look him in the eyes as terror fills his gaze.
“Getting pay back,” I hiss.
And I shoot with perfect aim. Three bullets, straight to the heart. He falls to the ground, makes a few twitching movements, and then stops. I made sure he was dead. He’s truly dead, and I killed him. Euphoria fills my head as I look at his corpse.
Part of me worried that revenge wouldn’t feel as good as I hoped it would, but I was wrong. This is liberating. I’ve killed the demon who has haunted my dreams since I was a child. And when I get back home, I’ll see my parents.
My heart leaps at the thought. I’m going to throw my arms around them and never let them go. They’ll probably think I’ve gone crazy, because they’re not going to know they’re supposed to be dead, but I don’t care. I’ll have them back.
I reach into my pocket and scatter the white flower petals over the body. No one else will know what they mean, but I do. I undo the buttons of my coat, press the right buttons on my belt, and whoosh home.
Traveling back was much easier than the trip there--simple hopscotch, one place to another. I stand inside my house and smile. I need to find my parents. I reach for my phone on the desk but stop when I see that my hand is fading, like someone is erasing me.
“I warned you, child,” the unmistakable voice of Time says from behind me.
I turn to face him. He’s still in his hooded rob and I can’t see his face.
“What’s happening to me?” I cry as more of my body starts to disappear.
“You killed Christopher Price,” Time says. “But what you did not know is that Price was your grandfather. He and your grandmother were meant to conceive your mother in 1962, but you killed him in 1960, so your mother was never born. Your father’s parents were also employees of Price’s that meet through him a few months after the night you killed him, but now they’ve never met, and your father was never born.”
“What!” I scream. “No, that’s not right. My mother’s maiden name was Freeman. Not Price.”
“Your mother changed it before she married,” Time explains. “She and your father fell in love and ran away. But your grandfather tracked them down and killed them years later. Then he killed himself. He committed many horrible crimes over the years, but killing his only child seemed to be the one thing he couldn’t live with. You didn’t save your parents, you erased them. And yourself.”
His words shocked me. No. No, I didn’t mean for this to happen. I wanted to save my parents and make Price pay for what he did. I didn’t know he was my grandfather. I should have gone back later and killed him, then everything would have been fine.
Time seems to know what I’m thinking. “There is no version of these events where you went back in time, killed your grandfather, and didn’t pay a high price for it. There are things that humans are not meant to do. I warned you that you still had much to lose.”
Time pulls back his hood and I gasp at his face while the rest of my body disappears into oblivion. His face is like nothing I've ever seen before. So beautiful and terrible. His face is the last thing I see before the world fades to nothing.
Nicole Passaggio is a Psychology major, minor in English.
Rachel Baumann edited this story.
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