Times That Change Us (On Hold)

Chapter 3 -The Runaways

Otis Ray, Age 28, 2114.

"Then where did it go wrong?"

"Wrong? It didn't go wrong," Otis said.

"Did you save the girl? What was her name? Summer?"

"Yes."

"Did either version of you get with her?"

Otis remained silent. The others got their answer.

~~~

This was where she lived right?

A 1950's inspired home, with a weatherboarded exterior and raised foundations fenced off with a hard light holographic shaped like a chain-linked fence.

Despite the dated inspiration, it appeared newer than the version from his time. He was used to the grass being overgrown and left to rot, the plants in the holders outside rotting away. Weeds growing in the very place that life shouldn't be.

The house could have been from the 1950s, over 164 years ago, but upgraded throughout the years. Summer informed him that the house was passed down throughout the years, for the oldest child to inherit. She had recently inherited it when they first got together, yet she didn't want to fix it up, seeing it as a cave of mystery and the lack of life making it even more wonderous.

Instead, nothing was out of place, her parents were neat freaks. He believed her mother was a gardener, now thinking about it, it may have been her father. He never paid too much attention to his, at the time, soon to be in-laws.

The only reason they had access to plants was because of the forest they had out back, separated by a chain-linked fence. The plants grew through the wire and decorated the backward with his beautiful greenery. His grandparents had a similar greenery covered space behind their place, but they were across two in the rich neighbourhood and there was no fence separating the town from the forest.

"This place is nice," Virgil commented. "Can't be the right place?"

"It is nice," Otis muttered quietly. He spun to face the younger counterpart. "What does that mean?"

"Have you looked at yourself?" Virgil said. "You are far from a neat freak."

"How do you-" He began to spit out but then he recalled, they were the same. "Right." He gritted his teeth.

~~~

He despised thinking back, watching his captors' every reaction. Every eye twitch of the burly woman or the huff from the decaying man. Put him out of his misery already. Skin was not meant to be taut around the bone. He shouldn't have been so repulsively skinny to look at, the place had healthcare.

Even amongst the stillness of his temporary prison, he struggled to hold a captive audience. Why ask for a story when you are going to interrupt at every turn. Their boss would listen.

It was fine, he only had half an hour of this left.

"You played with time, I don't know what you expected," the male integrator said.

Otis darted forwards and grabbed the man by the scruff of his collar.

"She asked me too."

The woman integrator laughed. "He did this all for a woman he loved?" As if either other of them knew what that was like.

"Not for the woman he loved. Himself. And the man who always wanted to be the hero," the man said. Otis tossed the man back into his chair.

"He needs to grow up. You can't always get what you want," she said.