The Postman

There are days life feels so mundane I’d do almost anything to get out of living it. Well, almost anything. I suppose there are a few things I won’t do if I’m still here doing this instead. In a way, I am happy to be sitting in my kitchen on a gloomy Sunday morning–late morning, where you know the sun is hiding brightly behind the clouds but it’s out of sight because the rain is too loud. I get the chance to hear each drop pitter-patter on my tin roof, along the walls. I am in awe every day of these simple delights; like coffee in my cup and a newspaper to thumb.

It was just a lovely morning on a dull day in my mundane existence. Not at all infrequent, but no less boring. The comfort of these things is truly immeasurable, yet they lack excitement, don’t they? Alas, I’m grateful to be content. Nothing can be perfect but I imagine this is close to it no matter how bored I get. And just when I was about to give up the hope that anything would ever come and shake things up, it damn well did.

Despite the storm and the sheer fact that it was the very Lord’s day of rest, I saw something whip by my window. I had been staring out over the kitchen sink, completely enchanted by the rain and the look of golden grey clouds when the object in question seemed to have flown right by. It looked like it was from the future! I’d never seen anything like that before. Never seen anything but a bird, bug, and plane fly. I jumped up as fast as it went by only to be startled by my doorbell before I could even move. Was that thing ringing my doorbell? There I was, still with shock and unsure of what to do. After maybe thirty seconds it rang again. I obviously needed to answer. I walked slowly to the door as I tried to subtly peek out my front window.

The thing was indeed that–a thing. I had only ever seen something like this on television in science fiction movies. Why was it at my doorstep? Some kind of robotic machine? What did it want from me? I continued to creep towards the door. Like clockwork, another thirty seconds passed on my way to answer and the bell rang again. I stared wide-eyed, unsure of the civility of the unknown creature that stood on the other side of my suddenly weak front door. What was it here for? Does it know who I am? Is it following a human’s instructions? Or was this some kind of extra-terrestrial technological creature?

I grabbed the handle as the bell rang again and threw the door open at the very second. Suddenly I was face-to-face with this intruder. It blinked and beeped and fluttered as it outstretched its mechanical arms that held out a package. I wearily reached forward but before I could touch it, it dropped the package on the porch before me. It held out a pen but as I went to grab that from its claw, a laser beamed out the end of it and took a full body scan of me. I stood shieling my eyes in terror of what was happening. Once the scan was complete, there was another confirmation beep, and the floating robot backed up about twenty feet until it stood in the middle of the street in the pouring rain. I wondered if it was waterproof or if it was going to get picked up when all of this sudden a huge crash of lightning came down and made a direct hit. The thing sort of exploded to bits and disappeared at the same time.

I was in such shock that I hurriedly picked up the package and stumbled back into the house. I fell to the floor as I slammed the door behind me. I scrambled to my feet and back to my seat in the kitchen. Suddenly, the paper didn’t look so appealing. Though I had to check the date to make sure I was still where I left myself that morning: April 10th, 1968. My coffee had gone cold by the time I came back to it. I wonder if time froze or if any of my neighbors saw that. The world felt so quiet in the rain, like no one would notice commotion right outside their door. Was I alone? Was anyone in their homes? Had something happened and now the world was something else? I never felt so alone or scared to see anyone in my life. I can’t decide which would be worse.

I’m not exactly sure I can really trust the package considering I have no idea who just dropped it off or the origins from which it came or the purpose of it. I imagine the contents are as questionable as its delivery. But after the whole self-discussion I had earlier, I figure it was nothing short of destiny for me to open it. What else am I to do but lean into the chaos on a fine, dreary Sunday? I grab a metal pot lid and the biggest, sharpest kitchen knife I have as if this will offer protection against anything lethal awaiting within this parcel. Last minute, I realize a rag over my face holes might also be a good idea; as not all lethality is carried with body.

I delicately lean over the box with my ridiculous knife and lightly drag it across the papery tape. Slowly, steadily as I sweat over the cardboard. The flaps begin to pop up without revealing the contents. When I finally got it open, all I saw was a junky mess. It looked like a whole bunch of broken items that I would not be able to distinguish whole. Some of it seemed familiar. I decide to go in one by one and lay them out on the table, as gently as possible. I am still not convinced something won’t blow up. I notice a few things like springs and screws, even a few small tools–hammer, flathead, Phil, wrench. But there are some things I just… have never seen before. Objects without a definite shape made of materials I don’t recognize. The purpose evades me. It seems there are other metal bits of different kinds–more I don’t recognize. The color and weight don’t match anything I’m familiar with. I am continuously baffled.

There are the tiniest light bulbs I have ever seen strewn around the box. As I collect them, I realize this is a false bottom. I scrape the edges of cardboard to reveal a glow that was so beautiful I gasp and drop the cardboard. I panic for just a moment before a deep breath as I lift the sheet again. Whatever is glowing seems to be some kind of gorgeous gemstone, settled between what looks like a manuscript on one side and another cardboard box on the other. I go first for the manuscript. It seems to be some kind of manifesto of a mad scientist. I would have no idea how else to describe it. I thumb through the pages to see what seems like a lot of credible references to actual time travel plans.

At this moment, I feel like someone is pulling a very elaborate prank on me. I just… can’t seem to forget about whatever robotic delivery man came and blew up in front of my house today. That seems to be unattainable by anyone I know who would want to prank me. But if I accept this is beyond a prank… Am I suddenly accepting the possibility of time travel? Am I now entangled in a future timeline that I don’t know about? This stuff… All of this, the whole day and delivery was just bizarre enough to be true, isn’t it? I can’t…

I set the script down and go for the box. I open it to find molecular-looking stones rolling around and buzzing with visible, blue electricity. I shut the box immediately as I would hate to lose or disrupt whatever the hell is going on here. I look back to the gemstone. I cradle it with its velvet cloth as I slothily lift it out of the box. I bring it closer to me and raise it eye level. Its glow highlights my face and I swear I can feel some kind of vibration or charge coming from it. I wrap it up carefully, slip it in a provided velvet bag and put it in my pocket. I’m not sure what possessed me to do this, but it felt right.

I walk to the sink and turn on the water. I let the cold run for a moment while I grab my water tank to fill. I continue the coffee ritual as I contemplate my next moves. This was not the Sunday I started with and I have a feeling it will be the last time my life ever feels the way it did this morning. I get the percolator going and grab a few more things: pen, pencil, eraser, notepad, calculator, ruler, book on Physics, metaphysical playing cards from my sister’s aunt, and gum. I set it alongside the objects of the box and put the box itself on the floor after one last thorough sweep. I pour my damn coffee and sit at my kitchen table. The rain hasn’t let up. There is nothing but these notes for me to figure out the basis of time travel. I grab a scone. My mouth wants to tremble but instead I get crumbs. I’ll never be tired, I’ll never be alone.

I’m no hero, but I think I’m about to build a time machine from the comfort of my own home. Well, Golly!