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The Place: Fort Myers Beach, Florida. The Year: 1999

By
Real Estate Agent with Premier Florida Realty of SWFL
She was tired of teaching geology to teens and her husband was weary of obtaining mortgages for adults. Still, it was tough going convincing Kev to agree to the Plan. He was terrified that something would happen to her. That she wouldn't return. So, she worked on him, every night, narrating their dream aloud, to buy that boat and travel the world, to stop when and where and how long their hearts felt like it. He caved after about a week. With her uncle, it took two.

He was a geologist, too, but a renowned scientist who had created a time travel chamber which he used to study the creation of the earth. He needed a time traveler, to go seven years into the future to collect certain sea shells in Florida. He loved her too much to allow her to be the one, but she begged him, cajoled, screamed bloody murder about it being her due, her right, and reasoned with him until he agreed.

She was then forced to attend many boring meetings and training sessions. What difference did it make what she wore. The time they spent on the topic was absurd. Fashion wouldn't be much different in seven years’ time. They finally settled upon a running outfit, blue with a pink backpack that would hold the shells, a little money and the device that would convey her back home. She promised faithfully to adhere to the rules. No reading of newspapers, no listening to the radio or tv and as little conversation with people as possible. History must not be altered by her obtaining knowledge of the future.

She kissed Kevin goodbye. It will be alright, she whispered into his terrified eyes. See you in a few hours. She stepped into the chamber and landed on Fort Myers Beach, Florida. She eyed the sea shells piled upon on the shoreline. It took her two hours to collect the requested specimens. Then, she scrambled up the pathway to the street. How far to the library, she asked a middle-aged couple strolling towards the beach.

Two miles that way. At least, he knew its location. She was fortunate to pass a bicycle rental shop. She also obtained more detailed directions. She arrived at the library out of breath. Her legs were shaky. She hadn't ridden a bike in awhile. Do you have computers? Yes, second floor. Her rubbery legs somehow managed the stairs. There would be an hour wait to use a computer. All of them were currently taken. She asked if they had old newspapers. He directed her to a different computer, one that wasn't spoken for, not as popular. They're archived, he explained.

What is the name of the local paper? I'm just visiting you see.

The Fort Myers New Press.

She retrieved the archived papers. Damn. They only went back five years. She was running out of time. That would have to do. She brought up the oldest paper, five years old, which would be two years in the future for them. They would have to wait two years. No matter. She clicked to page two of the paper, then glided over to the man at the reference desk again. I need a pen. May I borrow a pen?
There are pencils by the computer you're using.

Yes, but I need a pen.

Okay. He opened a drawer and pulled one out.

I'll bring it back in a minute, she promised. She headed for the ladies room, into a stall, lifted her shirt and wrote the info on her tummy. She then returned the bike to the shop and headed back to the beach. There was a little restaurant located right on the white sand. She couldn’t resist. She had half an hour. She needed a drink, well a beer, anyway. She sat at the bar. A Bud Light, please. That day's edition of the New press was lying not far from her on the bar. She scooped it up and skimmed it while she enjoyed the beer. She found one article in particular confusing and disconcerting. She almost asked the bartender, a young blonde woman what it meant, but caught herself in time. But, maybe she could ask in such a way . . .
It says here that Mayor Guiliani in New York has become very popular nationally since nine eleven and is running for President. Are you going to vote for him if he wins the Nomination?

The waitress stared at her a moment then shrugged. I don't vote much.  I'd vote for Hillary, for sure.

Did she mean Hilliary Clinton? She didn't dare inquire more. She paid for the beer and left, found herself back on the white beach. She reached into her backpack for the device.

Welcome home, honey. Her uncle was looking concerned, and guilty that he had let her talk him into going on the trip. Kevin just pulled her into his arms. I've got it, she whispered. They had champagne that evening with dinner. Two years. Those two years passed slowly, but they did pass. The airline tickets were purchased and their suitcases packed.

It was a beautiful autumn New York morning. They woke up early even though their flight wasn't due to take off until late afternoon. She made coffee and toast. They were both too excited to each much. Do you want anything to read on the plane? She had a paperback detective novel chosen for herself.

The newspaper will be fine for me.

Okay. I'll put it in my carry on. He handed it to her and she glanced briefly at the front page, and then froze.

Kevin, oh my God!

What? What?

Do you remember I told you that I read this story about Guiliani running for President during The Trip?

Yes, what about it?

I think that I know what that strange nine eleven reference means now. I think it meant a date. Nine Eleven. September 11.

Maybe, but so?

I was there on Nine Eleven, 2006. And that article, it also mentioned the five year anniversary of his heroism. So, his heroism took place . . . . TODAY!

He was silent, thinking, not knowing what to think.

We need to be in Florida by tomorrow night at 10:00. I don't think we should wait for the plane. We better start driving now. Whatever happened happens here, in New York where Guilani is, so we better get out of here now.

He brought their suitcases down to the car and started driving. They slept briefly at a rest stop off the highway and stopped for food at drive through fast food joints. They reached the Florida border at 8:00 in the evening. They walked into the convenience store together. It had been a sad trip down, the radio blaring the sad story of September 11, 2001. Everybody was talking about it, crying about it. She found the table with the forms and filled one out. She handed it to the clerk. He handed her a lottery ticket.

Good luck, Ma’am.
 
 
In 1999, there were houses on Fort Myers Beach listed for under $100,000.
Karen Nichols
Premier Sandals Realty
(239)849-3064

Comments (3)

Morris Massre
Pembroke Pines, FL
Real Estate Instructor Broward County Florida

What a strange, strange story, but well told. 

Feb 04, 2013 12:10 AM
Daniel Zettler, Esq. - Barnstable Mortgage Grp
Barnstable Mortgage Group NMLS 49104 - Allendale, NJ

I didnt really follow your story at all, but read the whole thing, since we have a house in Lakewood Ranch, and we offer our mortgage broker service in FL...

Feb 04, 2013 12:26 AM
Karen Nichols
Premier Florida Realty of SWFL - Fort Myers Beach, FL
Beach Realtor - Ft. Myers

This is a science fiction type story that I wrote.

Feb 04, 2013 12:41 AM