The Travel Bag

Hole in the World - Eagles

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Dust and soot swirled where the twin towers collapsed. Sirens screamed. Oceans of people stared into space; their minds were sucked into a vacuum of shock. Conspiracy theories abounded for who to blame. All I knew was one of the two thousand nine hundred and seventy-seven lives pummeled into the earth was my sweet Rachel. I stared down at my black boots that matched the dark void of my heart where our love for each other had resided.

***

The earth had circled the sun twenty-two times since the attack on New York City. Stringent hints of mothballs permeated the air in Agnes’s room. The acrid smell brought back memories of my old Aunt Maggie’s house which I visited as a child. Like a black moth to a flame, I was drawn to her crass humor. I found the piercing scent more tolerable than the flowery perfumes of other residents who cloaked the decay of their poor hygiene. The nursing home where I worked represented a one-way ticket between a bustling world and eternity for its residents. I could relate. Though only fifty years old, my mind and heart had died years earlier when I had lost my wife on Nine-Eleven.

I spent many nights visiting residents of the retirement home, where I worked as a maintenance supervisor during the day to fill the void. What else could I do? Sit and stare at mundane television shows every night. Rachel, the love of my life had disappeared into the rubble that awful day. I was buried in the same rubble for years, a prison of my own choosing, until I had discovered a patch for the void of my shattered heart. Closing out a late maintenance ticket for a burned-out lightbulb I had met Agnes.

Agnes, a new resident somewhere north of eight decades old was funny and must have been a stand-up comic early in life. Her brutal sense of humor wouldn't survive the cancel culture of today's world.

"Is that your face, Dustin, or did your neck throw up?" she said as I entered the room. I laughed.

"Are we on for some cards tonight?" I said.

"I don't think so. I want to share a secret with you."

"Okay, what's the punchline?"

"No, I'm serious. I don't have many days left in this world and I want to show you a most amazing gift. Dustin, if you could go back in time and change any moment in history, what would it be?"

Agnes could make you laugh or cry without believing her intent was cruel. That's why I liked visiting her. Good or bad, she made me feel alive. I plopped into the chair by her bed like a deflated ball. Tears welled in the corner of my eyes as I thought of my wife Rachel and the last day I saw her, the morning of Nine-Eleven.

"You already know I would stop Rachel from going to work at the twin towers," I said.

"What if I told you it's possible?" she said.

"I would say you have an UTI and have gone loopy on me. Should I call Dr. Morales?"

Agnes eyed me with compassion at the prevailing evidence of my twenty-two-year-old pain. She pointed her craggy finger to the floor.

"Hand me my travel bag from there in the corner," she said.

I retrieved the worn and weathered leather tote and handed it to her. She unlatched and parted the leather bag and said, "Aedani, aidani, aidani." Agnes’s face radiated a beautiful smile that bespoke the beauty of her youth. "That means 'take me back' in Arabic." Her perfect teeth gleamed like pearls, and her eyes shimmered from the pure white light bursting from the bag.

"Dustin, think back to the early morning of Nine-Eleven to where you and Rachel were. When you have the image clear in your mind look into the bag."

I recalled the long-held memory easily as it pervaded my daily thoughts and dreams. Agnes had lost her mind but I opted to humor her.

Leaning over the hospital bed I peered into the travel tote as she held it open. My breath caught in my lungs, and I stared unblinking at my beautiful Rachel in our kitchen sipping coffee. She laughed at my attempt to convince her to call in sick for the day. I had worked four twelve-hour shifts, and we had not been able to spend much time together. Across the room, I stood on my head near the sink.

"You're a silly man," said Rachel. "You'd do anything for some action. I promise I will be home tonight, and we will make up for the lost time."

My heart leaped. Rachel was so close I could inhale the fragrance of her Chanel perfume. Agnes pushed the leathers closed and my vision into the past with it.

"How… what …, How did you do that Agnes?"

"I have a confession, Dustin. Please don’t judge me. I am a time thief. All of my life I have stolen the time of others to live in whatever time period I choose. My time is expiring and my final appointment to leave this world is approaching. I accept it. You are a kind and generous man for keeping me company the past months. I want to gift you my travel bag so you can travel back to Rachel and change her history and yours. A man like you deserves to be a hero. You can arrive a day earlier on September tenth and stop the murder of thousands of lives."

Agnes explained that the bag was a family heirloom her great-grandfather had acquired in Cairo, Egypt from a ancient family named Waqt which translated to "time." The travel tote was empowered by stolen time from other people’s lives.

“Set the bag on a donor’s chest, and the satchel will take half the time of their remaining lifespan. If the target has one year to live, the bag will absorb six months. If four days remain, it will pilfer two.

"Stealing someone’s life? That terrible Agnes. You have shortened people lives for your gain? How old are you? When were you born?"

"I was born in eighteen eighty-eight. My life harvests have only come from those whose lives were almost at the end. A day here, an hour there. I know it sounds horrible but for you it's a true gift that can end your misery. You deserve to be with Rachel, Dustin."

"What happens to my younger self if I go back?" I said.

"If you travel back twenty-two years you will remain there and live your life from that day forward or travel the world through history. It’s your choice. There is only one you and cannot be in two places at the same time. The bag knows no limit as long as it's stocked with time."

"What do I need to do to store time in the travel bag?"

"Start collecting. You have access to all the patients here. Many of them are suffering and won’t feel anything. You will be doing them a favor.

***

I wrestled between guilt and excitement. The jolt of possibility to my apathetic heart won in the end. It felt foolish to make my maintenance rounds with the travel bag and I began to doubt that stealing time was even possible.

Was the vision of Rachel a shared delusion with any elderly patient nearing the end of her life? At the end of the day, Agnes checked the bag.

"You have only collected four days and six hours. You are going to have to pick up the pace to return to 2001 before I die. If you don't, the opportunity will be lost forever. Do you want to be with Rachel or not?"

On my way home, I drove past a derelict sleeping on a park bench. In the dark, I parked the car and placed the bag on his chest. He won't feel a thing. I am helping him escape his misery, I convinced myself. My love for Rachel is far more important than his wasted life.

I explored the remainder of the park, discovered a dozen drunk and homeless people sleeping under a bridge, and let the bag steal what time it could.

The following morning Agnes chanted "Aedani" three times and checked the bag. She reported I had collected eighteen years, three hundred days, and ten hours.

"You are so close Dustin. One more night and you will find yourself in 2001 again living your best life with the woman you love. I'm not feeling well and I may not wake up tomorrow. By then it will be too late. I must be alive to transfer the travel bag to you. You need to continue the collection. Hurry!"

My love for Rachel outweighed my moral compass. Agnes had given me hope that I had never dreamed would be possible. The doctor's call room was around the corner, and I slipped through the open door into the closet-sized room. Old Dr. Morale, who worked the nearby emergency room night shift, lay flat on the cot, asleep. He would sleep his days at the nursing home, on call, for extra cash. I tiptoed across the room, prayed I hadn't awakened him, and set the bag on his chest. He stirred. I lifted the tote and exited the closet size room.

The evening came, and Agnes checked the stored time in the bag.

"You did it, Dustin. Go home and get your personal things and come back quick. Tonight, you are returning to the morning of September tenth, two thousand and one to warn law enforcement of the impending attack and be with your Rachel. I am so happy for you. You have granted this old woman her dying wish."

Agnes beamed, and I hugged her in gratitude. The hefty burden of sorrow and grief had lifted off my chest. Anticipation of a redo on life energized me, and I rushed home. The void of my blackened heart sparked red to life knowing that in a few hours, I would return to the past. I would prevent Nine-Eleven, and restore my life with Rachel.

Two hours later, I returned to find Agnes's bed empty, and the travel bag was gone. I checked with the nurse's station. Had there been a medical event? Had she been transported to the hospital or died? The charge nurse raised the alarm because it had been a quiet night until I inquired. Death in a nursing home was as common as afternoon tea, but a missing patient was a different concern.

Two police officers came to the home and filed a missing person report. A search of surrounding properties began. Agnes's photo was plastered on the late news with a silver alert issued. The nursing home staff remained baffled by her disappearance. How does a bedridden woman just walk out the staffed floor and vanish?

Early the following morning, I asked Dr. Morales if Agnes had been found. He said, "No. I'd help with the search, but I am feeling rather old today."

Two days later, I received a note in the mail to my home address.

____________

Dearest Dustin,

Never trust a thief, no matter how old. My medical disability caught me by surprise, and I waited too late to steal time for my own survival. I am not ready to die. I couldn't have done it without you.

Forever grateful.

Agnes

_____________

Two days later Dustin boarded an international flight to Cairo, Egypt to meet with a local attorney who was assisting him in the search for a family named Waqt. At the U.S. Customs check-in, the agent asked him, “How long do you plan to travel?” Dustin said,

“I’m going to take my time.”