I was walking past my neighbor Jon’s garage the other day, when I saw his son Little Jon working away on a strange looking conglomeration of wires, and steel. I couldn’t resist stepping inside to check this sight out.
I walked around the machine, and checked it out. There were wires running here and there, and out one side stuck the old 386 IBM computer I gave him a couple of weeks ago when I was cleaning out my storage shed. In the middle of the machine was an old office chair, the kind with arms and a low back that turns round and round to raise or lower the seat. The seat and back were covered with duct tape, probably covering up old wear and tear holes from years of sitting.
“Does it work?” I asked, scratching my balding head.
“Works just fine!” bragged Little Jon. Sent my cat Chuck back to 1869, and brought him back just fine.
“Sent any people?” I asked trying to suppress the smile, which was forcing itself on my face.
“Sent anyone else?” I asked with a chuckle.
Now this got my interest, Americo had come to America to visit, and I was going to show him around the mid-west when he suddenly disappeared . That was why I was outside to begin with.
“Twenty-one-hundred,” I said, “Now that might be interesting, can you send me there to see how it is going?” I asked, trying to humor the little fellow.
I sat on the old office chair, as I was getting tired of standing anyhow, and watched as Little Jon twisted a dial, then pushed a couple of buttons, and typed something on the old keyboard of my ancient 386.
Then the room began spinning, and everything went blurry then faded to black.
When it became light again, I was walking through a small park in a little town. All was quiet and peaceful it reminded me of the small town I grew up in back in the ‘60’s. Soon I came to the main part of town, again it was nice, peaceful. I happened on to an old man, who was walking down the street toward the outskirts of town, holding the hand of a small boy. Both were carrying fishing poles and tackle. I stopped and asked the old fellow if he had seen my friend Americo.
“Sure have,” he replied and spit tobacco on the ground away from my feet. “Saw him go into the barber shop.” He said, nodding up the street indicating where the barbershop was to be found.
“Thanks,” I replied, “Taking your grand-son fishing?” I asked.
“Not my grand-son, just the boy assigned to me.” He replied, and the two continued on their way.
I walked the two blocks to the BarberShop, to find my friend Americo. It was so quiet, then I noticed that there was no automobile traffic, people were walking, couples strolling hand in had, old men walking with small boys, old ladies walking with young girls. Everyone appeared so happy, almost like there wasn’t a worry in the world.
“Americo!” I said, sitting on one of the chairs in the waiting area. “Just had to come and see how you were getting along in the twenty-first century.
I looked over the barber, he was a typical barber, kind of wide in the middle, not a lot of hair on top, with a wide handlebar mustache. Then I looked at the haircut that Americo was receiving, and decided that this fellow wasn’t much of a barber.
I noticed that there were no mirrors in the shop, now after seeing the haircut that Americo was getting, I could understand why.
“You got here by a time machine, like your friend here?” asked the barber.
Now I was getting interested.
“What happened to make your town so peaceful?” I asked.
“Why, since we drove all the lawyers out, and the barbers took over the world, it has been very peaceful.” He explained.
“What about the Internet, has that survived the century?” I asked with interest.
“What about crime, is there still crime in the twenty-first century?” I asked, as things looked so peaceful.
About this time he pulled the drape cloth off Americo, indicating that the haircut was done.
“Just two-bits.” Said the barber.
Americo tossed him a quarter, and together we left the barbershop.
We took the local time machine back to 1825 on the great plains of North America, in what is now North Dakota. Our hunt was very productive; Americo shot the biggest Mule Deer I have ever seen. Regrettably, I had to make the trip home, as my wife needed me to drive her to her mothers. I took the same time machine back.
Suddenly, I was back in the same chair in Jon’s garage. Little Jon was still punching things on his keyboard.
“Thanks for the ride, it was great!” I said, as I got up to leave.