"The Time Traveler's Visit"
by Dylan Jung


A Message from the Author - The time is the future - the years where technology has reached the peak of its existence: where cities have taken to the skies and machines thought only to exist in the realm of science-fiction roam the towns and cities of the world. But all is not the paradise you imagine - at least not for the poor citizens in the miserable little town of Abraham.

Here, we are as technologically advanced as the cities but are forced to lick the boots of the barbarians that now control our once-proud town. The Takers, as we took to call them, acted under cover of the night - stealthily taking over our town and others before it. Instead of providing for themselves, they thrive off the earnings and hard work of others - raiding our markets of food, raping us of the crops in our gardens, and killing any who stand in their path. Now they've gone from petty thievery to completely taking over the town. Our law enforcement is petty, and no one in the cities even bothers to notice a meaningless town beyond its borders. The barbarians of tomorrow have taken everything from us. But soon we shall return the favor.

"Oi you! Goldy-locks," one of the Takers yells, "bring me another round of this delectable beverage!"

I walk to the pantry, returning with the fat one's wine. "My name is Julia, you swine." With his wine in my hand, I slam the drink down on the table he where he sits, and he grabs my arm before I get the chance to walk away.

"You keep up that attitude young one, and I'll cut you up and you can join the rest of the swine in the slaughterhouse!" He pushes me down on the marble floors and I hit my head against the edge of a nearby table. The fat one's friends laugh as I struggle to pick my self back up. Then I notice the blood dripping through my golden-blonde hair. I manage to pick up myself and sit down in a chair next to the table that caused my head to bleed.

"Here," a young man says, "apply this to your head." He hands me a handkerchief. It's not often you see kindness like this in Abraham anymore, so I graciously took his offering. "Thank you," I say in reply. He leans back in his chair saying, "There is no thanks needed."

The young man who decided to help me is no older than 20 with dirty-blonde hair and sharp green eyes - eyes that when you look long enough, you know that a man has seen everything. He just sits there, not 10 feet from the men who knocked me over and he's smiling. No one smiles in Abraham anymore (except for the Takers) because there is never anything to smile about. But there he is: the only man in the entire town to be smiling about something. "What is your name?" I ask the man as he sips his coffee.

"Mark," he replies. "Mark Sims."

"Well Mark," I ask, "what brings you to Abraham?"

He continues to sip his coffee while simultaneously keeping that confident grin on his face. "I'm just a traveler. And I'm also here to help with your little Taker problem."

I'm dumbfounded by his answer, what help could one stranger do against an entire army of Takers? But still he keeps his grin, and finishes his coffee. "How," I say, "in the world-" I pause to rub my wounded head, "-do you plan on 'helping' us with our so-called 'little' Taker problem?"

Then, he dares to laugh. I keep staring, bewildered, as he looks at his watch and says: "Well, my dear, you'll find out how I will solve your Taker problem in abou-"

Vvhooooooom! One of the Takers' vehicles explodes outside. At exactly the same time, a mist begins to engulf the town as car explosions ring across the town. The Takers in the diner with us run outside. Mark Sims laughs as he finishes his sentence with a chuckle, "-zero seconds."

I rush outside to see what in the hell is going on - the mist is so thick, I can barely see two feet in front of me. Mark Sims is no where to be seen. The explosions have stopped, and the only noise in the air now are my fellow neighbors running across the streets to safety. The Takers in the streets fire their guns blindly into the mist, grunting. I hear them being taken down one by one but I can't see them, or whatever was in the mist was them.

The mist begins to clear: three of the Takers stand in the middle of Main Street surrounded by other fallen Takers. They're startled, looking all around them to see what was going on. Staring directly at me, they point their guns ready to fire. That's when I noticed Mark Sims standing right next to me - revolver in hand.

"Boy," one of the Takers says, "you don't realize what trouble you've just gotten yourself into."

"No sir," Mark immediately responds in his confident voice, "you have no idea what you've gotten yourself into."

I'm frozen with fear, surrounded by either dead or unconscious Takers, and now I'm facing the end of a Taker's gun barrel.

"I believe I speak for everyone else here when I say you owe these people their town back!" Mark demands.

"And who are you to tell us what to do?" replies the Taker.

With a smirk, Mark says, "I'm the guy who's got a .44 caliber aimed at your crown. That's who. Now, I highly suggest that you and your two remaining companions vacate the area before you join the rest of our friends on the pavement here."

"Or," the Taker replies, "we could just kill you now and-"

"Epp! Epp! Epp!" Mark interrupts. "That, I'm afraid, is where you're gonna have to stop talking! You see, I've worked out every angle of this - every possibility of how this situation could turn out - there's no way you are getting out of this."

The Takers look bewildered. It seems as though somehow they know exactly what he's talking about. "That weapon you have there," the Taker says, "the way you took out our men. You can't be!"

"I am. Now leave Abraham if you know what's good for you!" Mark demands, and the Takers lower their weapons and slowly back away from us.

What the hell just happened here?

"Well fellas," the Taker says to his remaining friends, "looks like we'll be taking a permanent vacation from Abraham." They take their last glances at the faces of the terrified citizens they "governed" and fly away in a strange machine that vanishes into thin air. The citizens of Abraham applaud its new hero: the stranger with the .44 magnum and the dirty-blonde hair.

As the citizens cheer about their freedom from the Takers, I can only say: "Who are you, Mark Sims?"

He smiles as he explains himself: "Well goldy-lo... I mean Julia, I'm afraid I wasn't completely honest when I introduced myself earlier. My name is Mark Sims, I am a time traveler."

Apparently, Mark Sims is a well-known time traveler (at least in most parts of the world) who uses his manipulation of time and space to solve other people's problems. Judging by how quickly the Takers decided to flee, they clearly knew who Mark Sims is as well. And they were afraid of him. Today, he decided to help the town of Abraham with its Taker problem. But my problems are not completely over.

The Takers may be gone but they still had the one thing that mattered to me in this world: my sister. My 19-year-old little sister was taken by the fiends who previously called themselves the owners of the town. For the longest time, I had no clue what they had done with her, but with the help of this time traveler, I might finally get the answers I need.

I find Mark Sims by a strange vehicle similar to the one the Takers escaped in, except it has a yellow insignia on its side resembling an "M." When I approach him, Mark grins. "Why hello, Julia. And how are you on this BE-A-U-tiful day?"

I don't know where to start. How can I just ask the man who's done so much for us to do one more incredible task? At first, I start by thanking him for saving our town.

"There's no thanks necessary," he replies. "I'm just glad I could help." Before I can begin talking about my sister, he has one more thing to say: "Well, you'll be happy to hear that after we've cleaned up this mess the Takers left behind, I'll be on my way. I have more towns to save and more people to set free with all of time and space at my careful disposal." The time traveler seems smart and charming, but I could see under his glimmer that he is just as cocky and stupid as any other young man, even if this one in particular happened to be a time traveler.

"I need your help with something else," I say, "but this problem is more personal."

He gives me a concerned look and says, "Well, I'd be glad to help. What is your problem, Julia?" I'm relieved that he is willing enough to listen to me after everything he's done.

"It's about my sister..."

We sit there for what feels like forever while I lay everything I know down before him. I tell him everything I can about Rebecca and the Takers that stole her away from me. That, besides my poor old mother, Rebecca is the only family I have left. She was always full of life and saw the best in people, but the Takers only saw her as another slave to lick their boots. She was the first person to ever be taken by those monsters. Mark seems to feel my sorrow as I cry when I finish telling him everything I have to tell.

"It's okay Julia," he says, "your sister sounds like an amazing person." I attempt to dry my eyes of the tears as the time traveler stands up out of his seat and says, "Well, let's go save your sister!"

"When I visited your town," Mark continues, "I had to examine all of the Taker's movements - what they did everyday and at what time of day. I even had to skip back and forth through time to ensure everything was right. I knew that the mist would come, giving me the perfect time to attack and drive the Takers away. However, what I found very strange was the vehicle the surviving Takers escaped in: it was a time machine - very similar to my own."

I can see clearly where he's going with this.

"The Takers," he continues, "are holding your sister in another point in time where no one can find them. Luckily, being the expert I am on time travel, I know for a fact it isn't hard to follow the trail a time machine leaves behind. So here's what I'll do: I'll take my time machine and I'll travel all across time and space to find your sister and I'll come back after I've saved her."

Mark seems so sure of himself, but I want to come along with him. "I should come with you!" I yell.

"That's not such a good idea," he replies, "I can do this better on my own. Besides, this rescue mission will take a long time to accomplish. But this can go easily for you - while I set out and take days, weeks, or even months finding your sister, you'll be right here as if it's been only a few minutes! I know it sounds confusing, but to be fair so is time travel itself."

I try to make sense of what in the world he just said in my head, and I figure that since he can time travel, that means he can travel to any time he wants for as long as he wants and all he has to do is hit a button and come back where he previously left off. It sort of made sense. But it was settled: Mark would track down the Takers and rescue Rebecca while I stay behind and wait.

After cleaning the streets of the Takers' bodies, Mark is ready for his rescue mission. After making a few fixes on his time machine, he packs up his things, does an inventory check of all his supplies, and comes out of his time machine to say his goodbyes. He says his final goodbye to me; he holds my hand firmly, looks me right in the eyes and said confidently, "Don't you worry goldy-locks, I won't come back until your Rebecca is safe with me." I know he's telling the truth.

"Thank you again Mark Sims," I say. "Now, go get my sister!" He gives me a confident smirk and flies away in his time machine, vanishing into the wind. The sound it makes as it vanishes, I'll never forget.

Ten minutes of my life never felt more like an eternity than right now. When is the time traveler going to come back? How much time will have passed for both the time traveler and my sister? Are Mark and Rebecca even going to come back in one piece at all? But my relief begins when I heard the unforgettable noise of the time machine making its return to the town of Abraham. I watch it appear in the exact same spot from which it took off, the same "M" insignia appearing on its side.

I'm so excited to see my sister I run towards the doors and hug the figure that steps out of that wonderful-sounding time machine. But as I gaze up at the person I'm hugging, I see a face I haven't seen before.

"Uh...," the young man said, "is this how you say 'Hello' in Abraham?"

I'm bewildered by what I'm seeing It's the exact same time machine that left 12 minutes ago ("M" insignia and all), but this is not the time traveler I know. I can only manage a simple "Who are you?" Then, I clear my throat and demand, "Where's the time traveler with Rebecca?"

The young, black-haired man looks nervous, as he scratches the top of his head and looks at me he asks: "The time traveler: was he about my age, dirty-blonde hair, named Mark Sims?" This young man knows the time traveler!

"YES!" I yell. "What about my sister Rebecca?" He gives me another nervous look... What is going on here?

"Your sister Rebecca: was she brown-headed, around 20 years old and-"

"YES!" I yell again, so eager to see her and Mark, but they are no where in sight! "Where is Mark Sims? Where is Rebecca?!"

The young man is terrified of me; his back presses against the time machine doors, and he tenses up from head to toe, revealing the .44 magnum at his side, the same one Mark Sims was holding not 20 minutes ago. "Okay," the young man says, "this might come as a bit of a shock to you. Mark and Rebecca aren't here any more."

I don't understand what he's trying to say. I try to ask without scaring him again. "I don't understand. Are you a friend of theirs? Who are you and where are Mark and Rebecca?"

He steps towards me and says, slowly, "My name is Adam Sims. And I'm their son."

Fin

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