Arnesto Modesto: The World's Most Ineffectual Time Traveler Page 7

“Did you remember the date?” Pete asked.

  “No, but I knew I was way early. If I had been closer…”

  “Forgive me, but without even knowing the date, I don’t see what you could have done. Look, how’s college going?” Pete asked, eager to change the topic.

  “It’s good. My programming classes are harder than I remember,” Arnesto said. Pete couldn’t resist smiling at this. “My favorite class is Poly-Sci, believe it or not. We have the class in this auditorium that used to be a movie theater. The seats are so comfortable. I go to class, fall asleep, and wake up when it’s over.”

  “Aren’t you missing vital info from the lecture?” Pete asked.

  “No, he pretty much reads from the textbook. When the Berlin Wall fell a couple weeks ago, I thought for sure we would at least discuss that, but no. The textbook is hilariously out of date, by the way.”

  “Is it, or are you biased because it’s all ancient history to you?” Pete asked. Arnesto took a moment to consider this until Pete interrupted his train of thought. “I just heard the garage. My family must be back. I’m sorry to have to kick you out, but I have a history paper due. I’ll walk you out.”

  As they headed toward the garage through the dining room, they saw Pete’s mom reading by herself in the corner.

  “Arnesto, how’s college going?” she asked.

  “Fine, thank you, Mrs. Morgan.”

  “Pete misses you at school,” she said.

  “Mom, please, I’m walking Arnesto out to his car.”

  Arnesto noticed the cigarette in her hand. She wasn’t overt about her smoking — she only smoked three cigarettes per day, and only at night, away from the rest of Pete’s family.

  Arnesto and Mrs. Morgan said goodbye, then the boys walked out through the garage. Arnesto opened his car door and leaned on it. “Hey, Pete. If I did remember something else about you or a family member—”

  “No! I was kidding earlier. You’ve already told me too much, thanks. Please never tell me any more about my future, including my family. I want to be ignorant like everybody else.”

  “But what if it’s… important?”

  “Then I especially don’t want to know. I don’t want to spend my life fretting about things I probably shouldn’t know in the first place. Besides, with you mucking up the timeline, who knows what will actually happen?”

  Arnesto saw the seriousness in Pete’s face and felt he had to respect his friend’s wishes. “Okay,” Arnesto nodded, then got into his car and drove off.

  Served

  Downtown, Near University

  Sunday, November 26, 1989

  Early Afternoon

  Thanksgiving over, Arnesto returned to school early. He spent his first day back in his dorm alternating between cursing the gobbledygook that is Assembly programming and cursing the airship levels in Super Mario Bros. 3, which was most likely programmed in Assembly. How did I ever beat this game? he wondered.

  Needing a break and confident he still had some time before thousands of his fellow students returned and ruined the parking situation, he decided to venture downtown. Parking was better there, too. For once, it was a sunny day and the sun felt nice and warm on his face. It also made it harder to see into the front window of Mona’s. There was nobody seated at the two window tables closest to the door, so instead of walking by like usual, he stopped there and pressed his face to the window.

  “The food looks even better from the inside,” a familiar voice said, startling him.

  It was her. Katrina, the first true love of his lives.

  “Oh yeah?” he said, returning her smile. He got these words out despite not being able to think.

  “If you’re hungry, you should come in. It’s delicious food.”

  “Will you be my waitress?” he asked. She smiled, then looked inside briefly, surveying the situation.

  “If you wait a minute, I can clock in, get my apron, and seat you in my section.” Instant chemistry.

  “Okay.” He watched her disappear inside, which gave him his first chance to really look at her, at least her backside. She had long, silky smooth black hair which she had pinned up for work. She was also wearing stylish clothes as part of her work uniform, which fit her athletic nineteen-year-old body very nicely.

  He waited, then walked in. Right on cue, she met him at the hostess station and led him to his table. The dinner rush wouldn’t start for a while, so throughout the meal, they had ample opportunity to flirt with each other until, finally, she brought him the bill.

  “Oh,” he said, looking over the bill with a confused expression. “I don’t see your phone number on here.”

  She laughed. “Aw, you’re totally my type, but I’m kind of seeing someone right now.”

  WHAT! Oh, right, she did have boyfriends before me. She’s probably still seeing that one she told me about. What was his name, Sean? What do I do now?! he thought.

  “You deserve better,” he said.

  “Why? Do you… know him?” she asked.

  “I know... better,” he smiled. She laughed but didn’t seem to know what to say, so he continued. “Tell you what. Here’s my number,” he said, writing down his number and handing it to her. “No pressure, but if things don’t happen to work out with Billy Bob or whatever—”

  “Sean,” she said after a chuckle.

  “Right, if things don’t work out with Billy Sean, you can call me. Bye for now.” He left feeling taller than he ever had in his life — partially assisted by his final growth spurt, which had come at last.

  One week later, a newly single Katrina called to invite him over to watch a rented copy of Rain Man on VHS.

  ***

  After dating her a couple weeks and feeling secure their relationship really was happening all over again, Arnesto decided to call Pete to let him know the good news.

  “I found my wife!”

  “Congratulations! Dude, I’m so happy for you. Did you bone her yet?” Pete liked to get straight to the point.

  “I did! You know, I always remembered enjoying sex, but my memories did not do it justice. It’s amazing. I mean... goddamn.”

  “Stop rubbing it in,” Pete said. “Min-seo is still holding out on me. Wait a second. Tell me the truth. Did you invent time travel so you could go back in time and lose your virginity before me?”

  “What?! No!”

  “You did, didn’t you. Oh my god, I knew you were hyper-competitive, Arnesto, but I didn’t think you were this petty.”

  “Dude, I’m not—”

  “Admit it. This is exactly the kind of thing you would do.”

  “Okay, I’m immature now, but—”

  “Aha!”

  “Pete, let me finish, goddammit. It was a much older version of me that invented time travel, one who couldn’t care less about something like that.”

  “It doesn’t matter anyway.”

  Arnesto liked the sound of that. Maybe their bickering would end. “Right, it doesn’t matter.”

  “Because I was first.”

  Arnesto didn’t know what to say. It might be best to drop it. But how could he? “I have lost my virginity, and you haven’t. So I am first.”

  “You’re first now, in this universe. But this is your second go-around. Which obviously happened after your first go-around, in which I lost mine first. I was the first first, the absolute first.”

  Pete was either envious or in desperate need of having his pipes cleaned. Arnesto remembered being both when the situation was reversed. Still, Pete had a point. “Okay, Pete. You were first.”

  “Thank you.”

  “But I didn’t invent time travel just to get laid before you, I mean, this go-around.”

  “Okay,” Pete said.

  “It’s astounding to me that we remain friends,” Arnesto said. “Then again, that was the other us, and they never had this conversation. I have to go. I’m seeing her again tonight.”

  Arnesto and Katrina were inseparable after that. He spent almost eve
ry night at her place. They didn’t even have their first argument until his birthday the following spring.

  ***

  “I’m glad you’re only a year younger than me again,” she said, grabbing another one of the cupcakes she had baked for his birthday. She had turned twenty in February. “That month I was two years older made me feel like I was robbing the cradle,” she laughed.

  Arnesto had decided he would tell her the truth that day — how mad could she get on his birthday? “Yeah, you know what, though, Snuggleblossoms?” he asked. They hadn’t had nicknames in their former life, but Arnesto thought it would be fun this time around. Still, he hadn’t yet found a nickname for her they could agree upon.

  “No,” she said, taking a bite out of her cupcake. The quest for the nickname would not end this day. “What?”

  “I’m actually eighteen, well, now.”

  “What,” she said, the joy of the occasion having left her face. “Today is your nineteenth birthday,” she said.

  “Eighteenth,” he winced.

  She slumped into the couch, staring straight ahead. “I can’t believe this,” she said.

  “The good news is that if we ever have sex again, it will finally be legal.”

  “Oh my god, you are not helping!” She stood up and crossed her arms. “Why did you lie to me? You’ve been lying to me this whole time!”

  “Would you have gone out with me if you knew I was seventeen?” he asked.

  She looked at him, still pacing. “Yeah… maybe... I don’t know.”

  He got up and put his hands on her shoulders. “No, you wouldn’t.”

  “Don’t tell me what I would or wouldn’t have done,” she said, pushing him away.

  “Does it matter anymore? Look, we’re here now, the same exact people we were yesterday. We’re two people lucky to have met and formed this wonderful relationship,” he said, taking her in his arms. She started to push him away, but then gave up and put her arms around him.

  “You’re lucky you’re tall,” she said. He had grown another two inches since Thanksgiving. “And yes, we will have sex again... maybe even tonight if you can refrain from pissing me off any further.” He snorted at her remark. “It’s not funny! You’d better promise not to lie to me ever again!”

  “I only lied for the sake of our relationship,” he said. She looked up at him expectantly. Realizing just in time that the period for logical discussion had passed, he continued, “But I promise, I will not lie to you ever again.” This was perhaps the biggest lie he would ever tell her, and he knew it. He had no choice. He wanted to tell her everything and impress her with his ability, but he couldn’t risk her safety by bringing her into his insanity. How would she react to him being a time traveler… if she even believed him? He also didn’t want to lose her if she didn’t believe him. It was hard enough convincing Pete, and he was logical.

  “Let’s go to bed,” she said at last, leading him into the bedroom. “You’re sure you’re legal now, right?”

  “Yes, you can no longer statutorily rape me.”

  “Oh my god,” she said, tossing his hand away before disappearing into the bathroom and shutting the door behind her.

  “I was only a child!” he yelled, falling into bed.

  ***

  The end of spring brought the end of Arnesto’s freshman year of college. He was a sophomore now — and then some. Between advanced placement exams, earning foreign language credits in high school, and taking an extra class each semester, Arnesto now had fifty-four college credits — only six credits shy of becoming a junior — and there was no slowing him down. He was able to squeeze in another overloaded semester during the summer break. By the end of fall semester, he was a senior. The next spring consisted of the end of his computer science program. All he had remaining by that summer was some general education classes which he completed easily. And then he was done.

  “What do you mean, you’re done? You’re graduating?!” his mom asked. She had called from southern California, where she had moved with Gerald after the divorce.

  “Yes, Mom.”

  “Arnesto, I can’t believe this. I am so proud of you. You’re only nineteen!”

  “Thanks, but it wasn’t a big deal. I just took an extra class here and there.”

  “A college graduate at nineteen, wow. When is the graduation?”

  “It’s in a couple weeks. But Mom, I know it’s short notice, and it’s a long trip—”

  “I’m coming to your graduation. You denied your father and me your high school graduation; there is no way we’re missing this.”

  “But Dad is going to be there. Will you two be alright?”

  “Don’t be silly, we’re civil now,” she said. This was news to him. He had mostly avoided family interactions since he first attained his independence two years earlier. One of the benefits of obsessing over school was that it always gave him an excuse to avoid family drama. He always had to “head back to school and work on that project.”

  “Great,” he said, unable to fake any enthusiasm. Just because his parents were civil with each other didn’t change the fact that he was still nineteen and didn’t want them fretting over him.

  “I’m going to go see about plane tickets,” she said. “This is so exciting! I’ll call you back once I know my itinerary. Bye, honey.”

  “Bye, mom,” he said, hanging up the phone.

  “It will be fine,” Katrina said.

  “I didn’t say anything,” Arnesto said.

  “I could tell by the look on your face.”

  “What was the point of them getting divorced if they’re still going to get together and harass me every time I do something amazing?”

  “Well, I don’t think you’re going to have to worry about that too often,” she kidded him. “Besides, I like your parents. They’re nice.”

  “They’re the ones that named me Arnesto,” he grumbled.

  Katrina disappeared into the bedroom and came out a few seconds later carrying a present.

  “Maybe this will help,” she said, handing him the package. “I thought you could use this now that you’ll have some free time on your hands while you’re looking for a job.”

  Arnesto tore off the wrapping.

  “A Super Nintendo?! No way! I loved the SNES!” He cringed internally the moment he said it.

  “You… what?”

  “I said, ‘I love the SNES!’ Someone brought one into the computer lab the other day. I got to play it briefly and meant to ask you if we could get one.” It was an outright lie. “I can’t believe you already got it! Thank you so much! C’mon, I’ll hook it up and we can play.” He was already tearing into the package.

  “I was going to start making dinner—”

  “Pleeeeeease!”

  “Okay, fine,” she said, unable to resist his enthusiasm. She sat on the couch and waited for him to connect everything.

  To her surprise, it took him no time at all to set everything up, as if he had done it many times before. He was both excited to play and relieved she believed his falsehood. He would sooner lie and tell her he had already played two-player with Saddam Hussein than tell her truthfully how he had already spent hundreds upon hundreds of hours playing the SNES in a previous life.

  “Here, you have to be Luigi,” Arnesto said, handing her the second controller.

  Cutting Ties

  Outside Katrina's Apartment

  Wednesday, September 18, 1991

  3:30 p.m.

  “It’s good not owning a lot of stuff, isn’t it?” Arnesto asked, looking into the fifteen-foot U-Haul barely a third full despite containing all their belongings. “What time is it?”

  “About 3:30,” Katrina said. Arnesto shut and locked the cargo door. “Perfect. Time for one last lap around the college before heading to the highway. You can drive, I have one loose end to take care of,” he said, tossing her the keys. After a quick stop at the manager’s office to turn in their apartment keys, they left the complex,
drove downtown past Mona’s, and arrived on campus.

  They drove past the dorm where Arnesto had paid $440 each month for one of the creaky twin beds in a shared bedroom he had hardly seen since moving in with Katrina more than a year and a half earlier. Despite having moved out, the university still forced him to pay because he was younger than twenty-three. Somebody had to pay for the new sports arena. “College: America’s greatest racketeers,” he said. Katrina ignored him. She was busy getting used to driving the truck, which was much bigger than anything she had driven before.

  They drove past the administration building, where employees were trained in the fine art of extortion. Next came the student union. Things were quiet at this particular time; there were only two visible student protest groups marching outside. Arnesto watched them for a moment, then lost interest and resumed his search.

  The quad came after that, followed by the library. Arnesto had gone in once for a few minutes his freshman year. As a computer science major, he had little use of the place and never returned. On one side of the library was the buyback area, where if one had managed to keep his eighty-five-dollar textbook in pristine condition the entire semester, the university would happily buy it back for a buck and a half.

  On the western edge of campus, and a full mile from his dorm — a long walk during the lengthy Massachusetts winter — sat the computer science building. Inside was the computer lab, where Arnesto spent many evening hours hunting for errant semicolons. Across the hall was the printer area, where after emailing their completed projects, students could wait in line for other students paid two dollars per hour to retrieve their printouts from the row of dot matrix printers behind them.

  At last, driving past the soccer fields on the final leg of their loop, Arnesto saw what he was looking for. He eyed the skinny young men jogging alongside the road in their matching uniforms, including shorts revealing far too much of their long, twiggy legs. Arnesto felt a little embarrassed for them, even though it was the current fashion. They passed the bulk of the team before Arnesto saw a familiar mullet on the head of one of the frontrunners.