CHAPTER SEVEN

Juliana Landis was an extraordinary lady Mitchell met quite unexpectedly at a party a few years ago. They were unknowingly set up through mutual friends and fell in love almost immediately.

Juliana stood just below Mitchell’s shoulder and carried herself with a swift elegance normally reserved for one much taller. Her hair was a rich shade of mahogany and flowed in waves framing her angelic face, but her most defining feature was undoubtedly her smile.

It could light up any room.

Her unique sense of humour reflected Juliana’s attitude to life, her infectious laugh drawing people to her, her charm ensuring they stayed. She was strong-willed with developed independence yet conversely craved affection as equally as any. Her childhood was not the smoothest and Juliana overcame many obstacles giving her strength and resilience; qualities Mitchell loved most about her.

Juliana was only a few years younger than Mitch, but nonetheless exotic, captivating him from their very first meeting. Vastly different backgrounds found surprising common ground and throughout their affair the two spent endless nights entwined in each other arms discovering them together. They spoke often of marriage and starting a family. Mitchell wanted that more than anything with his own family taken well before his liking and longed to make up for it. Juliana though yearned for travel. To see the world before the commitment of family took the opportunity away. Mitchell had enough of living abroad, so consequently, while the two never fought over the issue, many wines were consumed over countless evenings laughingly debating the virtues of both opportunities.

As lovers Juliana and Mitch were inseparable, their friends often gloating to what fine matchmakers they were - and justifiably. They loved each other, were extremely compatible despite their backgrounds, and spent twenty-six beautiful months together. A young couple enjoying all life had to offer.

Until a luncheon one afternoon just on two years ago…

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Despite nursing a respectable hangover, Mitch set out on his morning jog. He’d done enough thinking for the time being and last night the questions came thick and fast. Answers though less freely. He wanted to clear his mind and knew running would be the answer. But his head continued to pound the further he ran, so regardless of well intentions, he cut the run short. Coffee time.

“Hey Sarah. Man, you look great in the mornings,” Mitchell said sarcastically, a direct result of how he felt.

Sarah was as usual behind the coffee machine pumping out endless starters for her regular customers. Today though she looked out of place, tired maybe, her hair not in the usual fashion, her eyes sullen.

“You trying to be smart Mitch?” she offered with a forced smile. Mitch rued the comment; he was being cheeky and obviously struck a nerve.

“No more than normal. I’ve been hanging out for this all morning. I’m not feeling the best today,” he said almost apologetically accepting his coffee. Suddenly from guilt, or perhaps not being himself, Mitch blurted something without thinking.

“Sarah, would you like to have dinner with me some time?” He regretted the words the second they were uttered.

Mitchell was attracted to Sarah and it seemed a natural thing to ask, but perhaps the timing could have been better. Regardless, it was too late; he’d asked the question and stood dumbfounded awaiting her reply.

“I thought you’d never ask,” Sarah responded, this time with an unforced smile.

Mitchell’s composure immediately returned.

“Fantastic. When are you free?” he asked unsure what day it was. As it happened, both were available that evening, agreeing there was no time like the present. Mitchell never had anything on during the evenings.

“No time like the present,” he repeated as Sarah jotted her address and number on the back of a café napkin. Mitch quickly scanned it before tucking the serviette into his pocket.

“Great, I’ll see you around eight then. You got any preference to a restaurant?”

“Casual and local would be perfect Mitch. I’ll leave that up to you.” The flirty connotations were absent today and Mitch suspected no longer needed.

Mitchell left with a slight spring in his step and turned to notice Sarah’s smile had returned. Happy with himself, he shunned the plate to walk home the regular way; today would be back to routine. The coffee too began working, thankfully dulling the throb of his hangover. He questioned why he hadn’t asked Sarah out earlier, but already knew the answer. It had nothing to do with Sarah. Just another woman.

Peanut stirred as Mitchell turned the key to the front door and greeted him with her wagging tail. Much to her delight, he’d saved the last of his coffee for her and poured the remains into her bowl. Mitch sat on the back step as she enjoyed her treat, the heat of the past week finally passing, and considered what to do today.

Maybe an experiential journey back in time?

Mitch pondered the notion but questioned the benefit. He understood Albert’s daily need of the plate. Another hundred minutes of seeing the world again. But what could it give him? How many times could he look at the same scene day after day, albeit year from year? Yes it would be fascinating seeing the suburb change over the years. Witness the growth of plants and decay of manmade objects; to see different skies and new people. But would that make a difference and change anything of his past? There had to be more to the discovery. It simply couldn’t be that restrictive. That would be too cruel.

He jumped in the shower, his body and mind refreshed under the warm streams of water. Choosing not to shave until later that evening he laughed as there’d been little need for that decision in a long time. The water washed away his concerns and Mitch showered longer than usual. He found himself in another world, glancing at his hands to see they’d become wrinkled and prune like. A sign it was time to get out.

Mitch had seen that before and it never worried him, but today he recalled Albert’s earlier comment that his hands were always aged when on the plate. It was a strange parallel. He turned off the tap and stood naked in front of the bathroom mirror. As he toweled himself dry he uncontrollably thought of Juliana and wished he’d stayed under the water longer.

That was enough to set his mind racing.

He sat with his laptop typing the words ‘time travel’ into the search engine, then spent most of the day reading what he could on the subject without getting any closer to an answer.

There have been many beliefs on time travel dating back to the early mythologies of the Hindus and Buddhists, together with Islamic and medieval folklore. But none contributed to a clearer explanation. The great philosophers Plato and Aristotle once made comment on the subject, but much of it was speculative and unfounded. It was only in the mid to late 1800’s that Charles Dickens and H.G Wells brought the concept to the forefront of the public’s imagination with the classics A Christmas Carol and The Time Machine.

It was however the visionary physicist Albert Einstein and his Theory of Relativity that showed the greatest promise of time travel to the scientific world. Einstein proved that time is relative and not absolute as Sir Isaac Newton once claimed. In his later years, Einstein suggested the past, present and future all exist simultaneously. The belief in an undivided solid reality was so clear to him that he completely rejected the separation we almost religiously experience as the moment of now. He believed there is no true division between past and future, but rather a single existence.

The most notable testimony to his faith came following the death of a lifelong friend. Einstein wrote a letter to the family saying that although his friend had preceded him in death, it was of no consequence…

"...for us physicists believe the separation between past, present, and future is only an illusion, although a convincing one."

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Nearing mid-afternoon it was time to walk Peanut. She’d been neglected of late and the fresh air would do them both good. The decision, as usual, was vindicated the moment he reached for his shoes - the barking was incessant.

Peanut was excited to be out and uncharacteristically ran ahead of Mitchell. He whistled and called to her, but too thrilled she ignored his commands. He didn’t worry but kept an eye out anyway given her complete lack of street sense. He spied her in the distance, relieved she’d found a known scent, her nose buried into the grasses hiding its origins. It gave him a chance to catch up.

Albert Einstein - Albert Churchill, Mitch thought the names so coincidental. Or was he being overly clever drawing a link between them? There’d been so much to consider over the last few days.

Lost in that thought Mitch suddenly remembered his date with Sarah. He’d completely forgotten; it had been ages since he’d been out and considered where to take her. Local and casual. He knew an ideal Italian restaurant but dismissed it on two points. Sarah had married an Italian and that might make her uncomfortable, the other was the memory of a dinner at the same venue with Juliana a little over two years ago. He couldn’t do that to himself.

Mitch browsed his phone for local restaurants selecting a seafood place he’d heard good reviews for. He called to make a reservation pleased to remember with plenty of time. Short of that the walk remained uneventful and the two companions enjoyed being back on their habitual trek. It was leisurely just as it had always been.

Until the hill beckoned.

Mitch slowed and leant heavily on his walking stick. Peanut surprisingly trotted ahead expelling the energy of her prior captivity. Within seconds she was beyond Mitchell and almost to the metal plate. He eyed her intently, calling her back so he could catch up. The idea of her leading the way wasn’t lost on him and he called louder against the defiance. She ignored him. He called out again, in a gruff, deeper tone Peanut knew meant business, but she’d now reached the plate and about to step onto the metal surface.

“COME HERE!” Mitch shouted sternly tapping the stick on the concrete in an authoritative way. That worked. Peanut stopped right in the middle of the manhole cover. She turned to return, taking a step toward Mitch and then he relaxed. But right before his eyes….Peanut disappeared.

“PEANUT!” Mitch screamed breaking into a sprint. “Peanut!” he called again. But getting closer he realised she wasn’t there. Mitch called out over and over, whistling when his breathing allowed. Peanut was gone. Nowhere to be seen.

There were no oncoming cars, no yelp of an accident, but Mitchell panicked all the same. Peanut had a mind of her own but would always respond to his call. He checked the bushes behind the bench continually crying her name. Where did she go? Probing deeper into the bush Mitch whistled loudly drawing everyone’s attention but hers. He now panicked and chose to stay in the area. Peanut would always return to his voice and if he stayed she would hear his calls. But she didn’t.

Mitchell slumped onto the park bench despairing the loss of his best friend, all the while rapping his stick on the concrete and repeatedly calling her name. There was nothing more he could he do.

Time passed quickly and without his phone to check, Mitch reckoned he’d been looking for over an hour. Peanut had always been faithful and never run away before. He knew something was wrong. He looked to the plate where Peanut last stood.

“The plate…it must have something to do with that fucking plate.”

He stared at it cursing before Peanut was suddenly standing back on it. Her tail wagging so violently she almost lost her balance. She had reappeared as mysteriously as she’d gone. Mitchell leapt from the seat and ran to her as she turned and ran toward him.

“Peanut you cheeky dog, where have you been?”

She dropped to the ground exhausted, rolling on her side as Mitch scratched her belly. He calmed her down, patting her gently and talking to her softly. Peanut seemed fine and otherwise unperturbed. Mitch on the other hand was still shaken and clipped the lead onto her collar and headed home immediately. Whatever happened really scared Mitch and he wanted to get away from there.

At home Peanut rushed to her bowl and lapped the water for nearly a minute. Mitch thought she looked frightened, and perhaps she was, for she remained by his side often turning to meet his eyes for assurance.

Peanut’s breathing finally settled as she lay her head between her outstretched paws. Mitchell watched her relax, he too now settled from the scare questioning her disappearance. Peanut had literally disappeared into thin air and couldn’t have possibly got away so quickly. She was too fat and slow for that. He decided a drink was in order but diligently remembered his dinner with Sarah.

“Christ what’s the time?” he said to Peanut looking at his phone. Almost six. He had to shower and get dressed to meet Sarah by eight o’clock.

Plenty of time he surmised pouring a smallish glass as both a steadier and heart starter. He settled into a yard chair looking down at Peanut who lazily closed her eyes having presumably forgotten the afternoon.

“What were you thinking Peanut?” Mitchell asked rhetorically.

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