Time For Love

David was, it would be fair to say, that which many might consider to be, a surprisingly unremarkable man. In fact, some might go as far to state that he was the kind of man who you could meet at least half a dozen times before finally recalling that you’d ‘quite possibly’ met him once before.

Knowing this, made it particularly ironic to discover he was, in actual fact, also quite the eccentric. Despite only being in his mid-forties, with his small, short, stocky stature and somewhat youthful, ‘cherubic’ features he appeared to be, with his balding, blonde, ginger locks someone, if not one or two but, possibly even, three generations his senior, particularly when observing his penchant for almost exclusively dressing in a dark green, checked, plaid tweed jacket and a silk paisley scarf, coupled with sand coloured cord jeans and brown leather/suede brogue ankle-length boots. Naturally, he only adorned such attire, whilst venturing about the town which, in truth, hadn’t really happened all too much in well over a year, since the Covid pandemic had taken its firm grip of the world firmly within its cold, long, dirty fingers. Thus David being, not only, a responsible member of society, but also something of a hypochondriac, dutifully stayed at home, in which case he favored wearing his old but extremely, comfortable moccasin slippers and as well as his maroon or bottle green pure wool, shawl collar cardigans, both of which had been lovingly hand-knitted by his Grandmother who had ‘perfectly timed’ her departure, from this mortal coil, just over a year prior.

Despite the evident limitations of everyday life, David’s days were generally happy ones, if not to some degree a slightly lonely one. He thoroughly enjoyed spending time in his quiet, suburban home since it was, without a shadow of a doubt, a perfect reflection of who he actually was. Old Persian rugs decked the floors of his entrance hall and rooms whilst the numerous pieces of furniture scattered throughout the apartment were dark Sumatran wood, inspired by a gap year he had spent in Indonesia, just over twenty years previously. Above his fireplace, a large painting of the Sumatran Rainforest, reinforcing his connection to that great ' days-gone-by. So much so that, occasionally David would even dim the lights in his living room, staring at the painting not merely imagining, but willing himself back to that place, and that time. Then there were his books. His collection was as considerable as it was impressive and covered a remarkable array of subjects, from those of his particular hobbies, such as ornithology, entomology, trainspotting, and hiking to more general subjects in the vein of travel, wildlife, and his particular favourite: the classics.

Having initially been introduced to the classics, by his Mother, at the ripe old age of 6, the two of them would sit reading books on loan from the local library, whilst waiting for their clothes to be washed and dried courtesy of the not so local laundrette. Hence David grew up thriving on the words and images of Verne, Hugo, Dickens, Greene, Hilton, Salinger, Cervantes, Hemingway, Austen, Maugham, and of course, his particular favourite Mr H.G.Wells, whose each and every work he had read at least a dozen times. It should, therefore, come as no surprise to discover that David’s means of income just happened to be the running of a small, but quaint, and popular bookstore, which was, quite idyllically, tucked away amongst an older section of the city, not far from the river. On a similar note, it should come as no surprise that contrary to the bizarre tale about to unfold, our story begins far less bizarrely with David once again reading Herbert George’s “The Time Machine”...

On this very particular grey, early Friday evening David had been sitting on his old tapestry fabric armchair, wearing his Grandmother’s bottle green cardigan whilst drinking a glass of merlot and reading from an old leather-bound edition of his favourite book, bought for him, by his mother, on the occasion of his 30th birthday.

Having taken yet another sip of wine, like so many times before, David turned the page, yet this time found himself inexplicably struck by the words before his eyes. He read them again and felt such a sudden connection to the words, that he read them again only this time out loud :

“We should strive to welcome change and challenges because they are what help us grow.”

Pondering upon the unanticipated effect this familiar sentence was having on him, David downed the remainder of the contents of his glass.

It was in that very instant that a light humming and then a distinct droning sound became increasingly apparent, in David’s living room, literally feet in front of him. At first, the air began to vibrate, then it moved as if a whirlwind was emerging. David could only look on in utter disbelief, whilst the noise became so unbearable that his neighbours, both above and to the side of his apartment, clearly irritated, banged furiously on the walls for “him” to shut the noise up. David continued to stare on as, from the midst of this mayhem, an image slowly began to appear, forming and solidifying before his very, incredulous, eyes…

Then, just as suddenly, everything was still and silence was once again restored. David blinked in complete and utter amazement, seeing before his very eyes, in the middle of his living room H.G Wells sitting in his Time Machine.

“Good Day to you, Sir” he cordially greeted

David barely managed to open his mouth that alone utter any semblance of an intelligible reply.

“ I see my presence here has caught you somewhat aghast. Fear not, Sir, I am here for your benefit “

David finally mustered up enough voice to speak “ You’re really here Mr. Wells? That’s really a Time Machine? I don’t understand“

Mr. Wells smiled “ 'We all have our time machines, don't we? Those that take us back are memories...And those that carry us forward, are dreams. I should like to help you with your ‘dreams’. Please, Sir, come, join me- we’ll not go far”

Despite the utter strangeness of the situation, David felt such a degree of familiarity with his unexpected guest, having so thoroughly read his novels, that, in spite of his reservations, he found himself able to comply. Sitting down, next to Mr. Wells, he shyly smiled, saying nothing.

“Not to worry Lad,” Herbert exclaimed smiling“ This will take no time at all…”

Pulling a lever, the droning and whirlwind of earlier, repeated itself, only this time the Time Machine its occupants remained constant whilst all around briefly disappeared.

Once things had come to a halt, David looked around to find himself in a park not too far from where he lived,and just across the road from a beautiful beer garden. Looking towards his author pilot, slightly confused, David asked “This is a time machine. How is it possible to travel location?”

Looking back at David, H.G smiled, amused at the question, and asked “So you accept time travel as a reality but not travel?”

David, feeling way out of his depth, laughed nervously.

H.G.Wells continued “ Imagine jumping in a train” the novelist interjected “ Would you land in the same location that you jumped? “ Waiting for a reply he envisaged would not come he proceeded ” No, Sir. You would not- Geographically, you would actually land further along the track. Now to business!”

With that he hopped out of the machine and looked to David to join him.

Moments later, the two of them were heading towards a beer garden. Mr. Wells ushered David to a seat, where one woman was seated whilst another stood next to her. Neither wearing masks David fumbled in his pocket looking for his.

“ We are post-pandemic, Sir. You’ll not be requiring a mask.”

David sat down opposite the woman already seated, who smiled shyly.

The Indian-looking woman standing next to her smiled also, looking towards Mr. Wells knowingly.

“We shall give the two of you a little time” she added before they walked out of earshot.

David looked at the stunningly beautiful women sitting opposite him, buzzing with adrenaline. But unsure as to where to begin.

“Well, this has all been especially interesting. I’m David. What's your name?”

Just as she was about to reply a waiter came over asking if they’d care to order.

“ Would you like something to drink ?” David asked

The woman thought for a moment, before replying “ A Merlot please”

David smiled. The waiter then looked towards David “ Yes, I’d like a Merlot too please”

David and the woman looked towards each other and laughed.

"Haven't we met somewhere before?" she asked

From across the way, H.G.Wells and his counterpart, Begum Rokeya observe the happenings, with interest.

After a few minutes, Begum asked

“ Herbert, don’t you think it might be a little irresponsible for us to play around with the structure of time, simply for the purpose of love?”

Wells thought for a moment before responding “ I truly believe we must not allow the clock and the calendar to blind us to the fact that each moment of life is a miracle and mystery. Love even more so…”

They look at each other in a moment of agreement before continuing to watch the friendship of the couple develop, with a little time and a glass of Merlot.