CHAPTER THRITY FIVE

Sunday morning the streets would be quiet but Mitch feared being noticed tampering with the telephone pit; he’d have certain difficulty explaining that and if successful have the lost the ability to go back and alter the past necessary. So four am was chosen and Albert and Mitch met at the plate. The plan while adjusted slightly, remained as devised with Albert returning to yesterday, specifically to a point he was home alone.  Later, he would meet Mitchell at his house to rejoin their time lines.

While he was gone in the past, Mitch would dismantle the Caduceus Coil.

It sounded simple and both men confident it would work. The return of Alberts eyesight was the unknown in the equation.

Mitchell brought along his torch, the old bent forks he’d used in lifting the plate, together with an assortment of tools he thought might help in dismantling the coil. Albert came with only his cane and a wide-eyed look of anticipation.

“Are you ready to do this Albert?” A mute question. Albert had been waiting months for this.

Mitch sat alone on the park bench giving Albert time to decide when to travel. It wasn’t long before he saw him disappear in the dark, only a sliver of light cast from a nearby street lamp showing what happened. He gave it a few more minutes before venturing toward the plate. There was no rush, Mitch wanted to ensure Albert was definitely gone before lifting the metal plates from the telephone pit.

Mitch knelt down over the plate and inserted the fork handles into the oval slots in the cover. He hesitated before lifting them. Partly to check no one was watching, but mainly to accept the finality of his actions. If he continued and destroyed the coil, then all hope with Juliana would be lost. Despite all the nights’ pondering the possible outcomes, reaching the realisation that things would never change, Mitch still had difficulty coming to terms with the decision. It was a lot to ask and he selfishly considered not going through with the plan.

But what’s the point? The fat foreman would soon ruin everything.

The plate lifted much easier this time with the seal already broken. The metal sheets were still heavy though and Mitchell’s leg made it difficult to kneel. He awkwardly managed to shift the first plate over the others to expose the blackened pit.

The stench of mildew and dust rose to his nostrils.

Reaching for his torch, Mitch shone the beam of light into the abyss to discover the Coil still sitting neatly where he’d left it. The copper wires glistened under the harsh light. Mitch had already decided to remove the coil from the pit completely and cover up any traces of its existence as best he could. Ultimately it wouldn’t make a difference to their plans, but he figured minimising any evidence could only help their cause.

With a pair of wire cutters retrieved from his backpack, Mitch cut the exposed wires protruding from the thick wad of black cable running the length of the pit. As he did, he wondered if that would disconnect the phone lines to the surrounding houses. In any event come Tuesday, the workmen would find the problem and hopefully fix it faster than if the residents rang the telephone company complaining of a lost service.

He snipped the wires as low as he could then tucked the outer sheath of the cable back over the entry and exit points. It didn’t look perfect but reduced evidence of tapering. Next Mitchell took a screwdriver and undid the saddle screws holding the coil against the concrete wall of the pit. They were harder to disguise so he dug at the plugs remaining in the concrete and smudged some dirt and grime over the holes as camouflage. It would do.

The coil fell to the base of the pit with the brackets removed and Mitchell reached down to retrieve it. The twenty-centimetre iron core with looms of copper wire wound around the axis was heavier than he expected, but easily lifted and quickly placed into his backpack. Mitch checked again for anyone watching then tidied up inside the pit as best he could. The plate was returned with the same awkward effort and the whole operation took no more than fifteen minutes.

As simply as that, Mitchell removed the coil and possibly any chance of Albert returning.

The park bench was lonely at night being set back from the path and hidden from any light. There Mitchell waited counterintuitively hoping Albert didn’t return. It was a strange sensation. The first time Mitch used the plate he willed a successful return. Tonight he wanted the opposite. Albert not returning to the plate meant success.

Mitch checked his phone; 4:28 am. He would have to wait another hour so sat back bidding the impossible.

In the darkness Mitch ran his hand over the bench slats tracing the engraved initials he and Albert made so many months before. As he fingered the indentations, he thought of Juliana and then Kym Ho and how the plate had changed her life. He hoped Albert would see the markings himself someday as a permanent reminder of their secret time spent in the past. It was all that remained of the experience now for Mitchell. The plate provided something to everyone but him.

The glow of morning rose behind him and the soft light made things easier on the eye. He checked his phone again, it was nearing time for Albert’s return. Mitch had no idea what Albert was doing and if things had even worked. All he could do was wait and see what time would bring.

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Albert returned safely to the day before with his eyesight restored. He didn’t move far from the plate, he had nowhere to go and nothing more to test. All he could do was wait and see what time would bring.

He walked to the bench and watched the neighbourhood stroll through the parklands on a pleasant Saturday afternoon. Unsure what this trip would bring, he tried something to let Mitchell know he was all right. He removed the small tortoise-shell knife from his trouser pocket and began carving into the bench slats.

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In the predawn light Mitch reflected on what the plate had brought him. Lyle’s operation had been a success, as had the restoration of his family. Mitch had grown fond of Ethel and Lyle and delighted in giving that to them. Megan’s redemption and Alison no longer estranged from her family only added to the cause. The impact lasting generations. None would know otherwise except for Ethel, and Mitchell was certain she would keep things exactly how they should be. He was pleased.

No child should be disadvantaged, nor a family endure hardship at the hands of another’s miscalculation. Saving Christina from her accident stopped that ever happening. The young driver of the car no doubt learnt his lesson, as had Allesandro regarding the worth of his wife. The Martinelli’s lives had changed. Sarah loved her work, her husband, and most importantly had an able-bodied Christina. Mitch had fallen in love with Sarah, but not in the way one normally expects. He was attracted to her and would fondly remember their times together, but that wasn’t why he loved her. He loved her for showing him life could be wonderful and taught him what’s really important. Regardless of their friendship being lost from the plate, nothing would ever take that away from him.

Kym Ho had lived most of her life with the thought of a man she would never see again. Albert had lived the same life on another plane and in total blackness. Bringing the lovers together after so many years apart was the most noteworthy thing Mitchell could have achieved with the plate. He would miss Albert but promised himself he would travel to Vietnam every year to see his friend again.

As the light increased Mitch again ran his fingers over the carved initials on the bench. As he did, he noticed something magical. As if on cue, and exactly as he needed, Mitch saw letters slowly appear on the bench beneath him. He watched them emerge, carved in real time, to reveal something very moving.

They read,

ARC / MBA

On reflection, perhaps the plate did give Mitchell something lasting and meaningful. It just wasn’t what he’d expected. Perhaps Mitch got what he needed, not what he wanted.

He checked his phone one last time noticing two hours had passed and Albert hadn’t returned. That meant the destruction of the coil had closed the return portal to the present: just as predicted. He now hoped the second part of their theory was just as successful.

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Albert arrived at Mitchell’s home later that morning carrying his cane. Immediately deflated, he realised his eyesight hadn’t returned. He greeted Albert solemnly inviting him in. Albert navigate his way to the couch with a precision always demonstrated. Mitchell was forever in wonder of Alberts ability, and although disappointed, knew his friend would continue to be happy.

But before sitting, and still without comment, Albert removed his glasses and threw the cane to the floor. He smiled widely at Mitchell and allowed his playful gesture to make its point.

“You bastard!” Mitch cried. “Why would you do that?”

“Because it’s the last trick I will ever play regarding my sight.”

They laughed then hugged one another. Mitch stood back and looked upon Albert’s deep blue eyes realising they was seeing him for the first time.

“I’m not as pretty as Kym I suspect.”

“No, you’re not, but I’m sure happy to see you,” Albert added hugging Mitchell again.

Disrespectful of the early hour, they poured a drink to celebrate and share their stories of destroying the coil.

“I sat at the bench Mitchell and waited as planned. I was really scared with what you were doing, knowing if it didn’t work, it would be the last time I would ever see again.” Albert sipped his drink before continuing.

“Children played in the park and their parents chased them lovingly. The trees swayed in the gentle breeze and I saw birds flying carefree. If that was the last thing I ever saw, I was happy.”

Albert had waited at the bench for most of the afternoon fearful of moving in case everything went back to the way it was. It didn’t though. The purple and blue light never came, only the burnt orange of a setting sun.

He returned home realising how sparse his house actually was, a metaphoric representation of how empty Albert’s life had been. It needed to be that way, but not now. Albert never wanted for anything and was happy with the way things were. But now he had the two things he yearned for most and knew they would fill his life once more. His house needed to reflect that so he spent the night rifling through boxes of memorabilia, savouring the treasures for the first time in years. He happily unpacked his war medals and framed pictures and positioned them proudly on the mantle place.

“I got your message,” Mitch told Albert, “the one you left in the bench.”

“I am glad. It seemed appropriate given the circumstances and although not much, I meant it.”

Albert acknowledged the sacrifice Mitchell made. Destroying the coil destroyed any chance he had of being with Juliana again.

He looked to Mitch sincerely.

“Mitch, I’m sorry things didn’t work out the way you’d hoped.”

“Bullshit Albert. Things worked out exactly as they were meant to,” Mitch replied philosophically.

Mitchell got up quickly to grab the bottle and retrieve his backpack. From it he removed the dismantled coil and handed it to Albert.

“I have something for you.”

Albert took the coil and turned it over many times to examine the wire looms. It was a simple object belying its true value.

“This is what made it all possible?” Albert asked rhetorically.

“Yep. Weird isn’t it. I want you to have it.”

Albert looked to Mitch surprised.

“No. You keep it. I have everything I need.”

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