"Mobius Manor" Under Construction
Outside of Belton, IN – Rich Girrard and I couldn’t be more dissimilar when it comes to lifestyle. Rich is all technology and gadgets, computers and iPhones, social networking and LCD screens. Me? Give me one of my Jeeps, camping gear, some MREs (Meals Ready to Eat) and a map and I’m in hog heaven. I’ve been “sleeping semi-rough” the past 3 weeks, building something for Rich, and having the time of my life.
The irony is, Rich is the one who apparently, found himself in 1933, in a time when a vacuum tube radio represented “high-tech.”
Molly and I have an agreement. I’ll tell her everything, except what Rich has asked me not to tell her. She’s agreed to believe me when I say that I’ve seen glimpses of the future and as far as I can tell, things may well work out so that we’ll all have happy endings. Well, almost all of us, anyway.
I’m not completely convinced, mind you, because I think the future Rich has seen isn’t necessarily the only future that exists, so I’m working hard to bring the “happy ending” future into being. Another irony in this whole thing, is that when you see what is “to be,” it makes you work hard to either make that future happen, or make it not happen. Then, looking back on the past you made, it becomes the only one possible.
I’m building a house. For a guy who died in 1962. How’s that for irony? Rich will be in San Diego in July. He’ll be there to tell Molly and Samantha to be in Indiana in August, in the house that I’m building right now. It’ll be a family vacation. Rich’s trip to San Diego will be from 1952, 10 years before he dies. I’m not going to tell him he’s got a decade to live, because I’m not sure if to someone 70 years old that would be a lot or a little. I’ll tell him “you’ve got a lot of time left,” and leave it at that. Rich will leave this time, return to 1952, put up a small concrete obelisk and bury an ammo case, that I will then dig up a few weeks ago.
Sometimes, all this makes my head hurt.
Rich’s trip here in August, however, will be from 1935. He’ll be a couple years older than the last time I saw him, and won’t have any idea about what is coming for him. The instructions written by his 70 year old self suggested I don’t tell him exactly what’s coming, but that I be positive and be supportive of his plans.
So, that’s what I intend to do. And that’s all I feel comfortable in sharing, here. It’s hard not telling the whole story as I know it right now, but I can’t, because of the agreement Molly and I have.
Rich and Molly are my best friends, but in truth, I’ve known Molly longer than Rich. Molly and I went to the University of Iowa together, and got to know each other when she dated one of my roomates. In fact, Rich and Molly named Samantha after my mother, even though they’ve only met a handful of times, more in the past 10 years than before. She dotes on her namesake from a distance, though, since I’m an only child. My mother, a healthy and active 86 has always kept the world at arm’s length, which we’ve talked about a lot, but she assures me she’s happy in that, and that she’s simply an observer of the world. That has been especially since my father died in the mid 80s.
The house, that I have unofficially named “Mobius Manor,” is very cool and taking shape quickly. The funds available to me have been more than adequate for the job, since investing when you know what’s going to happen in the world kind of makes it all a slam dunk. Everything from permits, to materials and getting sub-contractors to show up, is easier when there’s plenty of money to work with, too. The specifications for the house were in the ammo box, and it was clear that a lot of time had been put into the preparation of them. I’ve got another 7 weeks to finish the house before it’s needed. In the meantime, I’m up at dawn, working through the day and sleeping not long after the sun goes down. Except for the computer tethered to my Blackberry for internet connectivity, it’s like pioneer days.
Again, I’m having the time of my life.
More soon.
