The Present
Two years ago today, The Present saw its first Runaway. Soon after, the second followed suit. Then a third, a fourth, and a fifth. By now, they numbered in the tens of thousands. The tech had been a long time coming, but Sunny still felt nothing but dread when she first heard news of a device that boasted the ability to transport living things back into The Past. Phoenix Industries, a private research and experimental laboratory with locations all over the world, had reportedly been working on the project for decades. Once the portals, which they had dubbed The Way Back Machines, were ready for use, the wealthy flocked in droves to The Past without a care for the people or places they were leaving behind.
From what Sunny knew, the debate about where to funnel the world’s collective time, energy, and money had been heated for a long time. For the past century, international conferences had been held annually to decide where global resources should be allocated. But each year, the divide between differing opinions seemed to widen while the climate crisis only became more dire. Neither side would back down, and the most vocal leaders were also the most stubborn. Before long, the scientific community was split into two factions, with much of the world’s population splintering right along with it.
But Sunny wasn’t going to allow her anger over the bitter anniversary to ruin her sanguine mood. A busy day lay ahead. Her first client of the morning was her best friend Pua’s daughter. At twelve years old, Kailani was about to outgrow her current wardrobe.
Pua and Kailani showed up at her door with a wicker basket full of old apparel. Together, they sorted through each article of clothing, deciding which pieces needed outright replacement and which ones could be mended, patched up, or upsized.
“Is that one still comfortable to move around in?” Pua asked as her daughter, who nodded after doing a double pirouette in a tiered dress.
“We can just add a panel to the hem to lengthen it,” Sunny said. “Come on, I’ll show you how.”
The rest of the morning flew by. Kailani practiced sewing on the machine, then by hand with a thread and needle. They settled on a new wrap dress and a new pair of parachute pants, as well as a fresh set of undergarments. Hand-me-downs from the older kids, a collection of which hung in Sunny’s closet, would take care of the rest.
Years ago, Sunny had started designing zero-waste patterns that were comfortable, fashionable, and still offered a lot of variety in style. Most of the clothing was loose-fitting and adjustable, made to survive periods of weight gain or loss. The fabric was stitched together with strong, reinforced seams. Sunny then used leftover food scraps to boil natural dyes and add a pop of color and personality to the natural textile fibers. The remaining scraps were composted for their gardens.
At lunch time, the whole commune gathered outdoors under the shade of pine trees to enjoy a bowl of refreshing cucumber soup with a side of homegrown legumes. Nearby, a family of Spanish goats grazed on the field of overgrown grass. Their voracious appetites helped prevent wildfires from spreading, but Sunny was most delighted by how their pervasive presence also helped prevent hopelessness from spreading. Other wild animals freely roamed the neighboring land. The ever-resilient red foxes were often attracted by the humans’ musical improvisations, the lyrics and melodies of which drifted through the hills every night.
After she finished eating, Sunny called her twin brother, just as she did every Saturday afternoon. Once upon a time, Stanley and his husband Jess had also lived on the commune.
When the latter died after an unfortunate lightning strike a few years ago, her brother moved to the city and buried himself in work at a tech company that created escapist virtual reality experiences for people with too much time to kill. Of course, Sunny worried constantly that he was only using this new job to distract himself from the grief instead of healing from it. Pua, a gifted orator and storyteller, also served as the colony’s mental health counselor. But Stanley refused to open up during their sessions following the accident. In the end, he chose to leave.
Today, Sunny relaxed as soon as Stanley’s face filled the video screen. He looked more content than she had seen him in years. “Hey Stan, how’s life?” “It’s good, Sunny. Real good.”
“I’m glad to hear it.”
“Listen, this isn’t easy for me, but I have to tell you something. I’m leaving tomorrowmorning, and…”
“Wait, leaving? You mean the city? Or your job? Did something happen?” Sunnyheldher breath as her imagination ran wild. Was this what she’d been waiting for? Was Stanleyfinally coming back home after all this time?
He didn’t elaborate for several seconds, but she could tell from the way he avertedhis gaze that he wasn’t about to announce happy news. “No, Sunny. I’m leaving…Well, I’mactually leaving The Present.” He looked straight into the camera once he’d spit it out.
The words hit her with the gravity of a felled tree. No way had she heard himcorrectly. They must have a bad connection. Stanley had never even discussed the possibility before. “What?”
“I can’t stay here,” her brother said with a loud exhale. “Every time another Runaway’s story is publicized on the feeds, I’m reminded of how I could go back to a time when I had everything. I know you think these people are cowards who would rather bury their heads in the sand than stay here and fight hard for The Future, but that’s not what it’s about for me. I want more time with Jess, that’s all. I’m only going back far enough for that. I couldn’t afford to go back further even if I wanted to.”
“But…” Sunny didn’t know where to start. She’d never understood the science behindthe unearthly invention. She was someone who relished the slow, meditative activity of manipulating physical objects with her hands. The concepts of quantum mechanics were tootheoretical and impenetrable for her brain to accept. “Won’t there just be two of you runningaround if you go back into The Past? And the younger version will already be with Jess, sohowdoes that work?”
“Actually, no,” Stanley said, though not unkindly. “The device was created to returnyour consciousness to your body at whatever point in time you choose. It only gets more complicated, corporeally speaking, when you set your destination to a point in time that predatesyour own birth. I don’t have to worry about that.”
“So you’re just going to go back and lose him all over again?” This was why it wasn’t a good idea to get too attached, Sunny thought. Because no matter what, people were going to keep dying due to circumstances beyond their control. Who knew how long their species, and others, would hold on? In the meantime, homes were going to keep burning. They were going to keep washing away. The precautions they took weren’t infallible. Biologically, their bodies were still adapting.
“Again, no. The whole idea is to prevent him from dying in the first place. Sunny, you know it was a freak accident. Wrong place, wrong time. Maybe if we’d lived closer to a hospital with more advanced resuscitation equipment, he would have even survived. But I didn’t call to rehash all that. My point is, I can fix this. And if it works, you won’t even notice I’m gone. Because for you, in The Present, we’ll both be back like we never left.” “But… What about the report?” Sunny asked. “Don’t you care that they lied? That they tried to hide the fact that this monstrous contraption still generates energy by burning fossil fuels and is actually doing even more harm to our planet?” We’re not hurting anyone who wants to stay, the Runaways always said, echoing a line from the Phoenix Industries’ own propaganda materials. The scientists responsible for the invention swore from the outset that its use was not detrimental to the environment in any way. Many had always suspected this claim couldn’t be the complete truth, but there was little evidence to support their hypothesis. Until, half a year later, an anonymous whistleblower leaked documents, blueprints, and private conversations to investigative journalists around the globe. The damning report was published widely eighteen months ago, but its contents didn’t seem to matter. As conditions around them deteriorated, more and more of the wealthy were fleeing The Present. I don’t see how temporal displacement could do any further damage, some of them continued to insist when faced with criticism of their selfishness. If we go back in time and tell everyone what we know of The Future, it will only lead people to take the crisis more seriously. We could reverse the effects even earlier. Sunny knew they were only making excuses for themselves. Still, she wanted to shake them and scream that the population at large would never believe such a fanciful claim. Everyone in The Distant Past, or “the good old days,” as most Runaways described those years, would label the time travelers as mentally ill and lock them up in institutions. They would not allow someone from somewhere so foreign and far away to swoop in and take away their personal freedoms and their comfortable way of life.
“I’m only one person, Sunny,” Stanley said. “And I’m not asking for you to talk me out of it. I’ve already made up my mind.”
Deep down, Sunny knew she had to allow her brother to make his own decisions, even if they turned out to be mistakes. But the part that hurt the most was knowing he would always choose Jess over her. She couldn’t exactly blame him. Ever since those two had stopped being idiots and admitted their feelings for one another, Stanley and Jess were the sweetest couples he’d ever known. The kind that still made her believe in true love despite her terrible track record with romantic relationships. But before Stanley became one half of a timeless love story, the twins had been inseparable. Being pushed aside now hurt even more the second time.
“You’ll still be there in The Past, too, Sunny.” It was as if Stanley could tell what shewas thinking on the other end of the line, and maybe he actually could. They’d always sharedamystical twin connection. “That’s the beauty of it. Everyone will be there.”
“Sure, I’ll be there, but this me won’t be. And you weren’t even planning to say goodbyein person?”
Stanley smiled, but the rare glimpse of his freakishly straight teeth was anything but reassuring. “If everything goes to plan, I’ll be back tomorrow morning, and you won’t evennotice the difference.”
Again, Sunny didn’t understand how the device did what it claimed to do. But for thefirst time since it had been unveiled to the public, she allowed herself to hope that Stanley’s wishful thinking was miraculously sound.
The Past
Obviously, Stanley didn’t need his sister’s blessing to visit The Way Back Machine and return to The Past, but they had been best friends and confidants their entire lives. He’d hoped when he called that she would understand his motivations. As he rolled up to Phoenix Industries’ Midwest headquarters, his chest felt hollow. Rumors of the corporation’s troubled past swirled in the vicinity of its every location. Critics claimed the organization had risen from the ashes of a pharmaceutical lab that was forced to shut down a century ago over safety concerns. They insisted The Way Back Machine was just another form of pill designed to mask pain instead of eliminate it. Up close, however, the infamous portal didn’t look like a monstrous contraption, as Sunny had so brutally described it. In fact, now that Stanley could see the elegant structure in person and touch its melded parts with his bare hands, he found its framework almost beautiful.
“And what if you die?” Sunny had asked before they disconnected their call the daybefore. He paused, considering her words. He’d been asking himself the same thing for monthsas he saved nearly every penny he’d earned at his corporate job in the city. He’d often hadtoskip meals and devise creative ways to obtain basic necessities. But those were sacrifices hewaswilling to make. And this was a risk he was willing to take.
Still, now that he was standing on the precipice of change, Stanley realized he was more anxious than he’d previously anticipated. Nightmares had kept him halfway awake all night. Even though he’d seen photographs of the existing portals, his apprehensive mind kept envisioning a medieval torture chamber with exposed gears and heavy chains. In real life, the polished surfaces looked lustrous and flashy, even inviting. Conspiracy theorists speculated that the apparatus had been designed that way for the sole purpose of luring unsuspecting humans to their deaths. Think about it, many of them wrote, spamming forums across cyberspace with their alternative beliefs. We never see any of these people again, and we’re just going to take those suits and lab coats at their word? This is population control, plain and simple. Stanley understood the importance of skepticism, but he thought that was an excessively paranoid take.
When Stanley still lived on the commune with Sunny, he’d been an engineer with a passion for food chemistry. He’d designed and built the special 3D printer that shaped many of the genetically edited foods they built their menus around. He’d become a master at dreaming up innovative recipes using limited and unpredictable ingredients. It was an especially fulfilling role because Jess had been their lead gardener. Even as certain plants failed to survive in harsher climates, his husband had been instrumental in experimenting with alternatives and finding solutions for nutrient deficiencies. Stanley missed the collaborative nature of their relationship so much.
Now, he entered The Way Back Machine’s portal and watched the gate close to boxhimin. “I’m doing this for you, Jess,” he whispered aloud, activating a complex sequence of buttonson the control panel, which lit up one by one, exactly as the short video orientation had detailed. “Okay, I’m doing it for me, too. But you’re the one who deserves a second chance to live afull life.”
As he closed his eyes in anticipation of a better yesterday, memories from his earlier life tumbled through his head. He remembered verbal fights with Sunny back when they were small children who’d been forced to share everything, including their parents’ affection. He remembered their father informing them that one day they’d be best friends who would lean on each other for support, and of course that was exactly what happened. He remembered building his first simple machine, a pulley system that made it easier for everyone to dry their laundry on the line. He remembered how happy he’d been when he realized what a positive effect it had on their mini society. He remembered the moment he realized that his feelings for Jess, the gardener’s son, went beyond those for a close friend. He remembered—
The Present
Sunny woke the morning after Stanley’s big news with a pounding headache. She couldn’t recall getting any significant rest at all, but persistent echoes of unremembered dreams crowded her mind nonetheless. She shook them off and got dressed.
One of the commune’s young goats, a tawny-furred kid she’d named Skye, was standing on her woven doormat when Sunny poked her head outside.
“Are you worried about Stan, too?” she asked the animal once her eyes had adjusted to the brightness of a cloudless blue. Considering the goat hadn’t been born until long after Stanley’s departure, this seemed like a ridiculous question. But maybe the perceptive horned creature had picked up on Sunny’s agitation the day before because its downy head bobbed up and down in response. Sunny sighed. “Yeah, me too.”
Sunny and Stanley had been born and raised here, in this valley between two grassy hilltops. Their collective was one of many far-flung groups committed to living off the land as much as humanly possible. Their detractors liked to call the worldwide movement a cult, but that label didn’t fit. These places were a sanctuary from capitalist societies driven by consumerism. They were all working toward the common goal of creating a more sustainable tomorrow, but they offered no positions of power at any level. Individuality was encouraged. Members had free will and could leave at any time.
Their parents had joined decades earlier as refugees from the Gulf Coast, a region three generations of their ancestors had once called home. Her mother and father met as teenagers, both forced to flee to higher land with their families after taking a direct hit from a massive hurricane. Their hometown never fully recovered. These days, most of that area was under water for several months of the year. A similar fate eventually struck Taiwan, the motherland where some of her distant relatives still lived. The only habitable places that remained on the island nation were way up in the mountains. Sunny had never seen the brilliant turquoise of the ocean with her own eyes. She didn’t know what was worse, the floods or the fires. But no matter how scary the stories of her late parents’ harrowing experiences as survivors were, the tides sang to her in her sleep. She could feel her heritage in her bones.
“Stan? Jess?” As she stood there on her doorstep, Sunny now called out to the men at half-volume, not wanting her neighbors to hear. When she received no answer, she checked the time. Stanley had said his appointment was at ten o’clock, and it was only fifteen past. Maybe his spirit was still in transit. Maybe reality hadn’t shifted yet. More than anything, Sunny hoped that was true.
The Past
The sun burned hot on Stanley’s bare face before he even opened his eyes. “Gardening is all about cultivating a strong relationship with the soil beneath our feet,” a familiar, soothing voice was saying from behind him. “We have to care for a plant and prepare a comfortable bed for its roots if we want it to grow. In exchange, it will care for us, too.”
Jess! Stanley whirled around, searching for the source of those words. He remembered this conversation. Did that mean the device had worked? Slowly, he took in his surroundings. He’d landed in the backyard garden behind their old house on the commune.
“In that way, a plant and a planet aren’t so different. But maybe that’s no surprise considering their common names aren’t so different either.” The owner of the voice laughed at his own linguistic joke. The owner of the voice stood on a ladder, his upper body obscured behind the branches of an apple tree, his lower body wearing trousers unmistakably fashioned by Sunny’s hands. Stanley remembered those pants. He remembered everything about this place. He’d missed it when he left. And pulling up a front-row chair to watch as his husband did what he did best? He’d missed that most of all.
“You’ve been acting strange all day,” Jess commented offhand as they prepped dinner together in the kitchen that evening.
“Have I?” Stanley couldn’t stop staring at the man standing beside him, alive and in the flesh. He couldn’t stop squeezing the man’s shoulder or breathing in the scent of the man’s sweaty hair. He recalled every detail about this night because it had ended up being their last together. For months afterward, their final conversations replayed in a loop in his mind. But Jess had never made that observation about his odd behavior in the original timeline, which meant that something about The Past had already changed. Stanley didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing.
“Yes, you have. I bet it’s because you’re nervous about tomorrow.” The two of them, along with Sunny, Pua, and Kailani, were supposed to put on a one-act play in the square tomorrow evening. Everyone on the commune took turns performing for the denizens everySunday before sunset. Instead of writing physical books, people told stories during mealtimes.
Instead of capturing images on film, they acted out narratives in front of a live audience. Their methods of entertainment were ephemeral, but Stanley now understood better than ever that living organisms appreciated a good thing even more when they learned it wasn’t permanent.
Stanley suffered from stage fright, so he was always trying to put off his turn in the limelight. But now he was nervous about tomorrow for another reason. Because if he didn’t change what was about to happen, the entire play would be canceled before it began. “You got me,” he admitted. “But don’t worry, I’ll be fine. Now let’s get this food outside before they start wondering what happened to us.”
That night, he could hardly believe he was sleeping in the same bed as his husband for the first time in over two years. Maybe this is a fever dream, he thought. Maybe I already died and none of this is real. When Jess accused him of acting weird again, Stanley feigned ignorance.
“I’ve been thinking,” he said, his face buried in Jess’s neck as their bodies spoonedonthe mattress, “Maybe we should stay in tomorrow, enjoy some quality alone time.” Even though Stanley couldn’t see Jess’s face from their respective positions, he couldpicture a confused smile spread across his husband’s face. “We can’t, silly. The play, remember?”
“Oh yeah, of course.” Stanley was well aware of the play. But since the productionwasscheduled to take place outside, he couldn’t risk it. What if his actions had already causedashift in the natural world? What if the dry thunderstorm drifted in later in the day this time around?
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Jess untangled himself from Stanley’s embrace androlledover to face him, caressing his cheek with the rough pad of his thumb. “If you’re that nervous
about it, you don’t have to get up on stage, you know. You do enough around here. This is supposed to be a fun way to unwind on the weekends. Someone else can play your part.” “That’s not it, I swear.” Stanley sighed. “Maybe we can hold the performance indoors. There’s enough space in the community center. I just have a bad feeling about the weather tomorrow.”
“It’s not supposed to rain, is it?” Jess asked. That made Stanley laugh, despite howunfunny the question was. It never rained here anymore, especially not during the summer months. They were in the middle of the longest drought ever on record.
“If only we were that lucky.” He couldn’t expel the edge of bitterness fromhis voice. “But we are lucky,” Jess insisted. “Because we’re here doing this together. Even if our collective efforts don’t work, and the world ends during our lifetimes, I can’t think of anyoneI’drather have by my side.”
All Stanley could do was murmur his agreement before they both fell asleep clutchingone another like a pair of human life rafts lost at sea.
The Present
It was noon. A rather hot day, even by the current standards, but they’d all survived a particularly satisfying patio lunch. Even so, Sunny had a difficult time focusing on her meal. Today was Sunday, she remembered, though her mind felt trapped in a cloudy haze. Maybe she was suffering from heat exhaustion or low blood sugar. Water was scarce, but she sat down at the table and bit into a juicy apple from the fruit bowl. If Jess were still here, he’d definitely be experimenting with new varieties that could continue adapting to extreme changes in weather.
Sunny’s thoughts were still drifting when her phone display began to flash. She glanced at the incoming message. Stanley was calling? That was strange, because she had already established that it was Sunday, and Stanley always called on Saturdays. More importantly, she was the one who always called him. Maybe there was some kind of emergency?
She quickly shook off her confusion and answered the call. “Stan! Is everything okay? Didn’t we just talk yesterday?” She tried to recall their exact conversation from the day before but found she couldn’t.
On the screen, Stanley laughed, his whole body shaking with the sound. Sunny couldn’t remember the last time he’d looked so joyful, and yet, a part of her did? Was she going crazy? Contradictory memories and emotions seemed to be fighting for dominance within her brain.
“A few things have changed,” her brother said finally. “But everything is good out here. Everything is great, actually. And time keeps marching on, doesn’t it? We keep doing our best toendure?”
Sunny nodded, still trying to stay upright on shaky ground.
“Hey, guess what? Jess just came through the door. He wants to say hi.” Jess? Hearing that name from her brother’s mouth flipped a switch in her brain, prompting some of Sunny’s overwritten memories to break free from their restraints. She began remembering bits and pieces from her Previous Present. She and Stanley had argued yesterday, she realized, over whether it was wise to return to The Past, especially if he intended to alter certain events that had already happened. Now she knew he had truly gone through with it. He had done what he’d said he would do.
On the other end of the line, her brother vacated his seat and was replaced by his husband. Jess’s image waved at her. “Hey Sunny! I know we just talked last month in this timeline, but Stan told me what he did. You must be feeling a little foggy right now, but don’t worry, the feeling will pass soon.”
Sunny knew she saw this man’s face regularly, but she still held the concurrent belief that a long time had passed since. A curious sensation.
Stan re-entered the frame. “I hope you’re not still mad at me. If it makes you feel better, the false memories will fade soon, and your new ones won’t be so different. You’re probably disappointed we’re not there like I said we’d be. We ultimately decided to leave the commune so we wouldn’t alter even more of The Current Present than necessary. I feel more at home in the city anyway. Even when I missed our old way of life, I had the notion that this was where I belonged. I was always afraid to tell you that. We were raised to believe that urban areas are overcrowded and filled with smog and trash, and that the people here were all on the wrong side of history, but that’s not true. People are trying to make a difference no matter where you look. Oh!” Stan held up an index finger like he’d just remembered something important. “But here’s the best part: The Way Back Machines are a thing of The Past. We’ve made sure of it.”
Sunny felt a tickle on the back of her neck when she heard him say that, but she couldn’t pinpoint the source of her sudden discomfort. The answer floated just outside the threshold of conscious thought, but she couldn’t quite grasp the tail to pull it back in. The name he’d mentioned sounded vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t comprehend its significance. She told herself it must be one of those new gadgets he was constantly dreaming up. He’d always had a knack for that, even when they were kids. But her happiness for her brother’s infectious excitement was accompanied by a sour aftertaste that she couldn’t comprehend. Something about his words felt hypocritical, though she quickly brushed the negative thought away. He was her twin brother. They’d once shared a womb long before they shared a room. He was older by only eighteen minutes, but his unwavering confidence in her abilities had made her feel invincible in the face of insecurity. She had no reason not to be supportive of his endeavors now.
On the video, Stanley was still speaking. “We have our own thriving community out here, Sunny, and we’ve implemented so many of the practices that everyone used to follow on the commune. We’re doing everything we can to ensure that the next generation continues adapting so they can flourish in The Future. Because we only have the one. And it’s everyone’s future now.”
Susan L. Lin is a Taiwanese American storyteller who hails from southeast Texas and holds an MFA in Writing from California College of the Arts. Her novella GOODBYE TO THE OCEAN won the 2022 Etchings Press novella prize, and her short prose and poetry have appeared in over sixty different publications. She loves to dance. Find more at https://susanllin.wordpress.com, on Twitter @SusanLLin, or on Instagram @susanlinosaur.
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