Reunion
Mobius Manor is getting crowded, but I have to admit, it’s a fun crowd. Rich got here yesterday. It was one of the most shocking, yet wonderful things I’ve ever experienced. It was about 8 in the morning, and I walked out onto the large front porch with a cup of coffee, knowing that according to the information that came to me through the buried ammo box time capsule, Rich would appear any minute. I have to admit though, that despite the fact that I had built this house in about a third of the time that was really needed, all on the prediction that my friend Rich Girrard would suddenly appear here from 1936, I’m not sure that I truly believed it would happen.
I had just taken a sip of coffee, and as I pulled the cup from my mouth, I saw him walking toward the house.
“Dan?” Rich asked, surprised to see me. Of course he would be surprised to see me, I thought. The Rich who told me he’d be here was much older, and this meeting was part of his past. The Rich in front of me didn’t know I’d be here. This Rich smiled and came trotting up to the porch, his hand extended. He was a little thinner. A little more fit than the last time I’d seen him. Significantly more in shape than the Rich who left here 8 months ago. 3 years in the past had been good for him. I was a little startled too, when I noticed that he seemed to have more hair. How’s that work? I asked myself, making a mental note to ask Rich that same question later.
We shook hands briefly, then he hugged me, slapping me on the back.
“What’s the date?” He asked.
“August 14th,” I replied. “Two thousand nine.”
He nodded, and considered the answer. “Just about what I was shooting for!” He said, excitedly.
Seeing my puzzled look, he explained. “I’ve been away for 3 years my time, and I’m starting to learn to control where I end up. I’ve even been able to hold off traveling twice!” He said, a proud look in his eye.
Then, Rich looked around, seeming to see the house for the first time. “What is this place? Where are we?”
“Well, I call it ‘Mobius Manor,’” I answered, “it’s your design.” I smiled, for once knowing something my friend didn’t.
“I designed it? What are you talking about?” He said. “Wait a minute,” he said, almost interupting himself, and turning around to look out from the house. “Where are we?”
“A couple miles outside of Belton.” I answered.
Rich frowned, sighed subtly and suddenly seemed distracted, looking off to the side as he seemed to be calculating something in his head.
“Why would I come here?” He said quietly to himself. Then, seeming to remember I was standing with him, to me, “I found that I’ve been able to direct my traveling to both places and to people.” He shook his head. “I was trying to travel to Molly. Shit.”
“Looks like you made it,” said a voice behind us, from inside the house. Rich and I both spun around. It was Molly.
Rich’s face lit up like it had done every time they were together when they first met. In the space of two heartbeats, Rich crossed the porch and took Molly into his arms, hugging her tightly. I could hear her softly crying as she held him.
I decided to go check on a couple jobs I was working on in the detached garage/workshop.
I have to admit, as I worked on sanding one of the legs of a chair I’d bought along with 3 matching pieces at an estate auction, the feeling I got from being an important player in the reunion I just witnessed choked me up a little. My two best friends were together again, and of all the things I’ve done in my life, the money I’ve made, the businesses I’ve built, the degrees I completed, this one project, that was just paid off with Molly and Rich embracing was the most satisfying I’ve ever been a part of.
I got to the workshop, a smile still on my face, and heard the chirp of my Blackberry, telling me an email had just arrived from one of my important contacts. I pulled the phone out of my pocket, and read the message.
For some reason, my Mother is coming to Mobius Manor. She didn’t say why, just that she’ll be here on the 18th.
What’s this all about?
