Diverging Paths

“What’s it like?”

I couldn’t stop the exasperated sigh that escaped my lips. I knew the question would come but I hoped perhaps someone, anyone would check on me first, ask how I was doing.

I couldn’t blame her though. I would’ve wanted to know too.

“Which one?” I asked, forcing a smile that successfully eradicated the look of shame that had slowly begun to creep onto her face.

“What do you mean which one?” she asked as others began to join her, gathering around wherever they could fit, some in chairs or on a table while others simply sat on the floor, eager to hear what I had to say.

“There’s more than one?” came an inquiry from the rear of the room.

“Absolutely.” I replied, “Three that I know of, probably more than that.”

“Then tell us about the best one!” demanded a young girl sitting nearly on my feet, looking up eagerly. Dirt smudged her face and her clothes weren’t much more than rags, not dissimilar from everyone else gathered around.

My heart sank. Of the three, two were wonderful albeit vastly different from each other but the third, well, it was one of those experiences that seared itself into your brain and clawed itself out every night as you lay in silence and darkness.

A young man, probably sixteen or seventeen, presented me with a small metal cup. “Thank you.” I said and sincerely meant it. “What a sacrifice.” I thought as I fished out a small insect from inside and used the cuff of my sleeve to wipe the rim.

I took a small sip and was surprised to find it was water and nearly fresh at that. I wiped the dirt off the table that stood under a broken window and sat the cup down gently.

“I guess I should begin?”

Heads nodded in eager anticipation.

“Imagine, if you will, skies that are blue and grass that grows everywhere and trees with leaves and fruit!”

Gasps erupted from the crowd followed by a railing accusation, “Sounds like you just saw it in one of those old books in the library.” He pronounced it ’lie-berry’ but I was the only one who knew better and I dare not correct him.

Instead I ignored him and continued,

“There’s no war, everyone wears clean clothes and there’s plenty to eat, too. Just remember, hope builds a brighter future and love overcomes all manner of hardship.”

A scoff from the back distracted me and I looked up to lock eyes with a gruff-looking bearded man. A small tuft of hair rested atop his head surrounded by baldness like a castle with a moat. Beady, stubborn eyes glared at me.

I recognized the look, this man had made up his mind and no manner of evidence could ever convince him otherwise.

Finally he spoke, “You’re doing the devil's work boy.”

“How’s that?” I asked, ready to defend my station.

He had moved through the crowd and was at the front but unwilling to come within twenty feet of me.

Something wasn’t right here, uneasiness crept in and déjà vu washed over me.

Did I know this man?

“If you’re telling the truth, and I got reason to believe you ain’t, but suppose you are, you’re claiming to have traveled to the future and there’s not one, but three?”

“Correct. Three possible outcomes that I know of.”

“So one of them is a future where plants and animals still lived in the wild like back in the 2200’s?”

“Yes.” I said flatly.

He scoffed again, “Enlighten us then, traveler, with the second?”

A couple others joined in his cynicism but most were still enthralled by my tale.

I collected myself and continued, “Nuclear powered cars. Oil and lubricants that never degrade. Batteries that charge in an instant and last for days or even weeks. Interstellar communication with outposts on the moon, Mars and Titan but best of all, food is plentiful! With no fuel or energy resources to wage war over, peace has enveloped the globe. Humanity finally set aside their differences and have worked together to progress technology further than anyone ever thought possible. Like I said before, none of these futures are possible if we can’t change ourselves now. If we wait for the future to change us, we end up changing the future.”

‘Ooohs’ and ‘ahhhs’ coursed through the crowd but the beady-eyed man still stood staring at me.

“What about the third one?” he snarked, “Bless us with more of your lies or perhaps you’re not lying. Maybe” he shouted and turned to the crowd, “he’s a soothsayer and the devil is giving him visions!”

This time the crowd was split as to whether they wanted to hear more of my adventures or wanted to drag me out in the street and burn me like a Salem witch.

It turned out that futures can change but only if humanity does so first and it was looking like we were doomed to repeat ourselves as we had done so many times before.

As I was dragged out into the street and tied to a makeshift stake, realization struck and I could barely stand myself for my ignorance.

This man, this monster, was familiar because I had seen him before or rather his likeness.

His face, emotionless and uncaring, vile and selfish, had been plastered on every wall, every street corner and every window in the potential third future I had visited.

The portraits portrayed a man much older with hair solid white but eyes that still burned with a ferocity that knew no comparison.

This man, who had stood barely twenty feet away from me, would one day soon drive the world beyond a breaking point from which it would never recover.

Buildings would burn, bodies would lay in the streets with none to bury them. People who were already on the brink of starvation would be pushed past their limits and commit heinous acts for survival if they didn’t take their own lives first.

That was the third future, that was the clawing beast that kept me awake at night and as the pyre was lit I realized the path had diverged twice but us humans, in our lustful, self-centered ways, had proceeded headlong barely diverting our eyes from the destruction that lay ahead.

“What if he speaks the truth?” I looked up to see a middle aged woman staring at me, her patched dress blowing in the wind, her weathered hands holding tightly to a waist-length braid.

Fire burned in my soul, strength encapsulated my bones and light flooded my brain, driving the beast away, at least momentarily.

In my minds eye another path diverged and the possibility of a fourth future presented itself to me.

“Woman!” I shouted, “Free me quickly, your life, the lives of your children and your children’s children depend on your bravery this day!”

She did it. She, along with many others, orchestrated my escape. I ran and to my shame I didn’t look back. I grabbed the suitcase that housed my temporal anomaly generator and was gone within the blink of an eye.

My brain tells me everything calmed down after I departed, my gut tells me blood was shed that day.

Perhaps one day I’ll go back and try and fix it but until then I’ll keep wandering.

That’s what I do best, I sow seeds of hope in times of desperation.

Perhaps one day they’ll actually take root.