A New Past - Cover

A New Past

Copyright© 2014 by Charlie Foxtrot

Chapter 14: Under the Spotlight

Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 14: Under the Spotlight - A disenchanted scientist is sent into a version of his past and given a chance to change his future. Can he use is knowledge to avert the dystopian future he has lived through or is he doomed to repeat the mistakes of his past?

Caution: This Science Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   mt/ft   Consensual   Romantic   Fiction   School   Rags To Riches   Science Fiction   DoOver   Time Travel   Anal Sex   First   Oral Sex   Slow  

“Explain to me again why this is a good idea,” I said as Jeryl patted my hand and Jim shook his head. Our guest actually had the grace to laugh.

“It’s news,” Jim said.

“We’re proud of you, and want others to know what you’ve accomplished,” Jeryl said.

I looked at the reporter who had laughed and waited for his response. He smiled a genuine smile and thought for a minute. “You’re a role model that America and the world needs. Your story is an example that could help thousands or millions of kids across the country and around the world,” Morley Safer said.

I sighed. I wanted to change the world. I just never thought I would have to be made up and interviewed to do it. “Okay, but I want to be able to give you honest answers and not have them edited out into a fluff piece.”

“It’s ‘60 Minutes’. We don’t really do fluff pieces,” Safer said with a straight face. I knew that wouldn’t be the case four decades down the road, but kept that to myself.

“So, why don’t you give me a little more background on what you’ve accomplished and we’ll figure out what the interview is later.”

I nodded and motioned him into the shop and office. Everyone else left us alone. I began to explain about building my car and why it was different. Morley, as he insisted I call him, was very easy to talk to. He followed openings in my story with intelligent questions and took notes. Over an hour later, he asked if I would show him around the shop. We ended the day with a drive in my car. I even went so far as to let him drive it. He was impressed.

“Okay, Paul. I think there is a real story here that deserves to be told. I’d like to write up my notes tonight and then come back out with a local camera crew. We’ll follow you around a bit and shoot some of your life. We’ll finish with an interview.”

“Here?”

“Yes, or in a local station. You won’t need to come to New York, if that’s a concern.”

I shrugged. “Not a concern, but I’m pretty busy. We’d have to work that into my schedule. Due to school, it might have to wait until spring break.”

Safer laughed again. “I don’t want to wait that long. I’d like to get this in the can and slotted to air by then.”

I wished him a safe drive and told him to call before coming out so I would be sure to be here. Sunday night, he did call to say he would see me at school on Monday.

He was as good as his word and had a camera man and two assistant producers with him when I pulled into the school parking lot the next morning. It was a little unnerving to realize a camera was watching me park, but I did it without embarrassing myself. Morley waved the cameraman away as he greeted me.

“Are you ready for an exciting day?”

“I guess. Is it too late to change my mind?”

He laughed and clapped my shoulder. “You’ll do fine. I’ve cleared things with the school. Today we’ll shoot background material of you and your school. I’ll ask you to talk a little about the pool and some of your other donations. We’ll talk to some of your teachers and friends as well. Tomorrow will be out at your farm. It will be casual and relaxed. I’m still working on the interview time. I think we’ll do that in the local studio, but I haven’t gotten it scheduled yet.”

“Okay, you’re the boss.”

I no sooner said it than Jim and Lisa got over their shyness and decided to find out what I had done now. Thankfully the cameraman did not catch their initial reaction on tape.


Jeryl squeezed my hand as the show cut to commercial. We were at Jim’s house in Bloomington. Jyl and her parents were there along with Mom, Jim and Kelly. Jim and Lisa had also joined us for the Sunday evening airing of “60 minutes”. They had finished filming it almost six weeks ago. The buzz in town was just starting to die down. I knew it would reach a different level of drama this week.

The ticking of the stop watch brought my attention back to the TV.

Dan Rather’s voice greeted us. “Some people claim that America’s youth are not being prepared by our education system to be ready to lead our country into the future. With continued criticism of the Department of Education and the quality of education in America, we decided to look at an example in rural America that would challenge those critics. Here is Morley Safer with an interesting glimpse into our next generation.”

The scene cut to a sweeping panorama of our fields covered with snow before pulling back to show my shop in the foreground. Morley began his voice over. “The heartland of America, where Friday night football matters as much as the price of corn or soybeans; where families have struggled to make a better life for their children for generations; where new ideas are being born as easily as crops rising in the spring. This is a new generation of innovation, and it’s coming from a garage on a humble farm that most of us would drive past without giving a second look.”

The camera cut to my office.

“This is the office of a modest inventor. He has been at it for two and one-half years and has filed or been granted forty-two patents as of this filming. He is seventeen years old. His name is Paul Taylor, and he wants nothing less than to change the world.”

I groaned and Jeryl and Mom both shushed me.

Morley went on with background on my car and then included some of my footage from the first car show we did. Then it cut to the interview footage.

“And that show led to a deal with Chrysler, Ford, and General Motors?” Morley asked.

“That’s right. We now have agreements with most auto manufacturers in the U.S., Europe and Japan.”

“And you did this just after you turned sixteen years old?”

I smiled at the camera. “My step-sister actually had to take the car to get its certificate of road worthiness, since it was ready a week before my birthday.”

The camera tightened on me.

“Why? Why put so much effort into this idea of a better, safer car?”

“In 1979, in the U.S. alone, over fifty-one thousand people died in auto accidents. Isn’t that reason enough? I had ideas to apply the new microprocessors being built by Motorola and Intel to make cars safer. If I could prevent even a portion of those fifty-one thousand deaths, didn’t I have an obligation to? I know how my mother would answer that question.”

“But many of your inventions are not just about safety items. Your car gets pretty impressive gas mileage as well.”

“It does. I thought Americans would appreciate that as well. The price of gas doubled on average between 1979 and 1980. It’s only going higher.”

“Why?”

“Globally, our appetite for energy doubles every seven years. If demand for internal combustion engines keeps pace with that, we’ll see four dollar a gallon gas before the end of the century.”

“And you want to do something about that?”

“I do. I want to give people a way to make their gallon, or dollar, go further and preferably reduce our dependence on oil for our energy needs.”

“Why single out oil?”

“Because there are better things for it to be used for and it’s a finite resource. As far as I know, God isn’t pumping any more into the earth for us to go out and discover.”

The interview continued on, switching between topics and scenes as Morley built a story about my accomplishments as well as why I thought they were important.

“I understand that you attribute your accomplishments to ‘hard work and thinking logically’. Would that be your message to your peers watching this?”

I grinned at the camera. “No, that sounds too dispassionate. It’s true, but hardly motivating.”

“What would you tell them?”

“Think for yourself. Take logical risks. Learn from your mistakes and setbacks, and don’t be afraid of failing.”

The interview ended with my words sub-titled on the screen and a still shot of me looking into the camera. Morley’s voice over stated: “Since filming this interview, PT Innovations has launched a new partnership with Nike selling the Diamond Skin brand of sportswear Paul Taylor and his girlfriend Jeryl Salaway created last fall. Initial estimates are that it will be worth even more than his automotive patents.”

The ticking stopwatch announced the cut to commercial and I heard a collective release of breath by those around me. Suddenly my back was being pummeled by congratulatory slaps and Jeryl was hugging me. Even Janet was smiling, I noticed.


“Man, being on ‘60 Minutes’ was a trip,” Jim said as we finished lunch the following day. School had been abuzz and many people who had not previously given me a second look congratulated me in the hallway. Even a couple of teachers had mentioned me in class. Even though people had noticed the film crew when they were at school filming, almost no one had the whole story that had been aired the night before.

“Now, maybe things can get back to normal,” I said.

“Normal for you or normal for me?”

I laughed. Jim had a way of helping me keep things in perspective. “Man, I’m going to miss you next year.”

“Well, maybe you can come down to make sure your scholarship is being used appropriately.” Jim had not gotten accepted to MIT, but had made it into Tulane’s School of Engineering in New Orleans. He was excited about the opportunity to head down to the Bayou State.

“That would be cool. I’ll have to see what I can do.” Lisa had been accepted at Bradley University in Peoria in their nursing program. While she suspected I was behind the scholarship trust that had offered to pay her way, she had not yet actually asked me about it. After the show last night, I was certain it would come up.

“So, no mention of the scholarships last night,” Jim said softly.

“Nope. I never mentioned it to Morley.”

“Who are you going to give them to next year, besides Jeryl?”

“What do you mean?”

Jim shrugged. “You gave three last year, three this year; I just figured you were going to keep giving three a year.”

He was right, but I hadn’t really thought about it. John, Ryan, Jordan last year. Jim, Lisa, Jyl this year. I muttered under my breath. “Maybe I won’t miss you so much. You seem to create a lot of work for me, too.”

“What?”

“I hadn’t really thought about it beyond my cousins and friends, but you’re right. I need to make the trust and scholarships permanent. That means either picking two people or setting up criteria to apply, select, and award them. That sounds like too much work.”

Jim laughed. “I’m sure you’ll do it well, even if it is a burden.”

I thought about it off and on for the remainder of the school day, and decided to discuss it with Jeryl after school. We talked about it soon after I picked her up, kissed her hello, and headed for the shop.

“Well, Jyl guessed it was you as soon as she got the package from the trust, but didn’t say anything to Mom and Dad. I know they were excited by the thought of a full ride through U of I for her and on to medical school. I think Mom suspects you but also thinks it might be grandmother.”

“Well, if we announce scholarships, it’s going to come out.”

“That doesn’t mean we should not do it.”

“I agree. But what should the criteria be?”

“Well, everyone that has gotten one so far is going into a somewhat technical degree field. Could that be part of the criteria?”

“That’s a good idea. Science, engineering or management would be a good starting point. Maybe foreign language as well, so Mom doesn’t feel slighted.”

“Right. And do you make it for the whole district or just Fieldcrest and Standard?”

“I like the idea of doing something local. Maybe, if no one applies or qualifies we open it up to the district.”

Jeryl grabbed her notebook and began writing down our ideas. “Do you keep it at three a year?”

“Why not make it four, since we have some Nike money to put into it as well.”

“Now, what’s the application process? Need or merit?”

“Merit. Everyone that’s gotten one so far has earned it through hard work in and out of school.”

Jeryl finished writing and looked up at me with a glowing smile. “I think this is a great idea, Paul. I’ll chat with Jim and take this off your plate of worries.” She got up and stepped close to kiss me.


“This is that car that was on TV a couple of weeks ago.”

Jeryl and I were walking to my car from the movie theater. We had just seen Porky’s and were in good spirits. Four young guys were admiring my car.

“It is,” I said as we got closer. The guys turned and I was suddenly troubled. They were our age, or a little older, and all looked in decent shape. The boy who had spoken had unruly red hair and a mean look in his eye. He was the obvious leader.

“That means you’re that rich asshole who ruined my cousin’s knee.”

I thought furiously and pulled Jeryl closer and a little behind me. “I didn’t ruin anyone’s knee.”

“Bullshit. He hurt it when you tackled him. He was going to get a scholarship and now can only go to community college.” He got closer to me and I noticed the small flattened bottle sticking out of his jacket pocket.

“His own teammate is the one who landed on his knee.”

“After you tackled him. How is it fair that you have millions of dollars, and he loses his scholarship because of you?”

He was close enough for me to smell the booze on his breath.

“I think I’m going to show you what it’s like. How are you going to like it when I bust up your knee?”

A couple of the other boys exchanged looks, but didn’t try to stop their friend.

“Look,” I tried to sound reasonable. “I didn’t hurt your cousin, but maybe I can help him out.”

“You think you can buy your way out of an ass kicking?” He sneered. “I’m going to mess you up, and then do your girlfriend, and then take your fancy car. How are you going to like that?” He poked me in the chest and I stepped back.

“Jeryl, run back inside.” I didn’t have to tell her to call the cops.

“She’s going nowhere,” the punk sneered and waved one of his buddies at her. The kid stepped forward and reached for her arm. I knocked it away.

“Run, Jeryl.”

She ran as the bully swung at me. I stepped aside and pulled my hands up to protect my face as he stepped in and tried to get at my ribs. I blocked and twisted to minimize his contact.

“This isn’t going to end well for you and your friends,” I said. I still had not hit him. “Cops will be coming soon, now.”

His friends exchanged glances but still stood behind him.

He tried to box me some more, but was not good enough or sober enough to land a real punch. “God damn you, stand and fight like a man,” he yelled and grabbed my arms. I grabbed his jacket and slammed my head forward into his nose. Blood gushed out and he let go flailing his arms.

“Shit, shit, shit. Come on and grab this fucker,” he cried. Two of the others stepped in and tried to grab me. I twisted away from one, but the other got hold of my arm. I turned into him and brought up my knee into his groin. He let go with a yell and dropped to the ground, but his accomplice jumped on my back. One arm went around my neck and he tried to hit me in the kidneys with his other hand.

I grabbed the choking arm and bent and twisted. He came off my back and I released him in mid-air just in time to take a fist to the face from the leader. Instinct took over and I counter punched. I caught his cheek with my left jab and then followed up with a right uppercut in his ribs. The breath went out of him and he dropped to the ground as I saw flashing red lights arrive on the scene. I stepped back as two cops bailed out of their car and told everyone to stand still. Jeryl came running to me despite their protests as our assailants tried to regain their feet. The one boy who had not been involved bent over and threw up. It seemed fitting, somehow.


The cops were nice enough to let me keep the ice pack on my left hand as they took me into an interview room, but were not pleased that I refused to talk to them without my lawyer. I had told Jeryl the same thing. Don’t speak until an attorney was present. Now, I had the joy of sitting in a dingy grey room with a throbbing hand, some punk’s blood on my shirt, and a pissed off detective.

“Look, kid, I just need to get your side of the story.”

“I am invoking my Fifth Amendment protection of not incriminating myself and will not answer questions until my attorney is present.”

“Why do you need a lawyer? You must have done something to provoke them if you need your lawyer.”

“I am invoking my Fifth Amendment protection of not incriminating myself and will not answer questions until my attorney is present.”

“God, damn smart-ass punk,” He finally said with disgust before leaving me to wait in the room.

He might have been an honest cop. I hoped he was, but I knew the tricks policemen played. I knew I had money and would be a target for those kids and their families. I knew I was from another town. I knew it was my word against theirs. I was not about to open my mouth and dig a hole.

It must have been nearly an hour before to door opened again and Candace walked in with the officer.

“Paul, are you alright?” She asked.

I nodded.

She looked at the officer. “I’d like a few minutes to confer with my client.”

The policeman seemed more impressed by Candace and her smart outfit than anything. He nodded and left us alone.

“Where’s Jim?” I asked.

She gave me a look. “Jim is with Jeryl as they take her statement. I came in to check on you. Your and Jeryl’s moms are outside waiting. Now, tell me what happened.”

I went through the events of the evening. She took notes and asked several questions. She went back over the timeline of events again and then nodded. “Ok. I’ll get the officer. When he asks you a question, pause before answering. If I have a problem with it, I’ll stop you during that pause. This should be straightforward, but you never know when someone has an agenda. You were smart to wait for Jim and me.”

“Thanks.”

The officer came in and took my statement.

“So, you did not swing first?” He asked after I gave my account.

“No, sir. I knocked one guy’s arm away when he grabbed for Jeryl, but even after that I tried to avoid any blows.”

“So, I take it those boys tell a different story,” Candace said.

“They say you jumped them while they were admiring your car because they touched it.”

“All of them tell the same story?” I asked.

The cop seemed uncomfortable for a moment. “Three of them tell variations along those lines.”

“And the fourth?” Candace asked.

“The fourth says he is fuzzy due to alcohol.”

“So, four underage drinkers tell differing stories about how the fight started, while the two people who called authorities and tried to deescalate the situation tell identical stories and that makes them the aggressors? What does the parking lot surveillance say?”

I was surprised. Forty years in the future, I would assume the whole thing was caught on some security system. In 1982, I’d be surprised if there were cameras at all.

The police officer looked uncomfortable again.

“Come now, or I’ll file papers to get those tapes myself. I know that theater put parking lot surveillance in last year after a rash of vandalism and theft outside their theaters. Surely you’ve looked at the tape by now.”

The officer sighed. “I think we have enough from you. We’ll let you know how the investigation turns out, but we will not be charging you with any crimes, Paul.”

“And what about the other four?” Candace asked.

“Haven’t they gotten enough? One kid has a busted up face and might need plastic surgery, the other will never have kids and the third is going to be in traction for at least three months.”

Candace stared at him for a minute. “Whose sons are they?”

The officer paled. “Does it matter?”

“Of course it does. Some petty local politician is going to try and sweep this under the rug to keep their poor parenting out of the press. Then, a year from now, they’ll try and squeeze my client for money to keep this out of the paper. If you don’t charge them, this will have no public record and my client will have no proof of his innocence in the matter.”

“That won’t happen.”

“Which part? Charging them?”

The cop rubbed his hands over his face. “Jamison will never bring charges against a judge’s son. He can’t charge the others and let the son get away.”

“Which one is it?”

“The one that stood aside, but he either needs to corroborate your client’s story and stop saying he was too drunk to remember, or I’ve got to charge him with underage drinking.”

“And if he corroborates? He did nothing wrong other than stand aside. Surely his own father would tell him the same thing.”

“He begged us not to call his dad yet.”

Candace stood. “Let me talk to him.”

They were gone for fifteen minutes, during which time Jeryl and Jim joined me in the interview room. Jeryl ran to my arms immediately. “I was so frightened, Paul. You were wonderful though.”

I kissed her just as our mothers came in. Jeryl blushed under Janet’s frown.

Our mothers fussed over us and we had to tell the story yet again. We had just finished up when Candace and the officer returned. Candace was smiling.

“It seems the fourth boy sobered up enough to recall what really happened. They’re taking his statement now. I believe we are free to go, correct Officer Timmons?”

The officer nodded. “I’m sorry about the way this played out. I’m glad you weren’t hurt, Paul, but you might want to get that hand checked out.”

We left as quickly as possible. Janet insisted Jeryl ride home with her while we went back to the parking lot to retrieve my car. Candace joined me in the ride home after letting me know her car was at the farm.

“You know this sort of thing is going to happen again,” she said after making sure I was alright to drive.

“What do you mean?”

“People know you have money, Paul. We need to think about security for you and for Jeryl. If there was not video of the attack on you, it would be your word against theirs. They could sue you for millions. If you had asked me, I would have never let you do that show.”

I managed to chuckle. “If I had known you felt that way, I would have definitely asked. It seems like nothing good has come from being on “60 Minutes” yet.”


“Mom is totally freaked about the attack in Peru,” Jeryl said as she dropped into my lap and wrapper her warms around me. “She doesn’t want us to go out without another couple.”

“But we can still go out?”

“Of course, silly.” She kissed me.

“Well, that’s a relief. Mom and Jim have been talking about security. I can’t really get my head around it.”

“Wow, something you can’t get your head around.” She kissed me again. “I’m pretty sure any idea you had of us going somewhere for spring break won’t work out, though.”

I scowled. “You know me too well. I was going to see if we could go skiing again.”

I could feel her smile against my chest. “That would have been great, but no way is mother going to allow it now.”

“Even if we got security for the trip?”

“I don’t know. What kind of security is my mother going to believe in? Besides, she has hinted at taking us all up to grandmother’s.”

“What if your whole family went along?”

“Taos?”

I shook my head. “I was actually thinking of Park City, Utah.”

“Why there?”

“They’re supposed to have great spring skiing.”

“What else?”

I laughed. “You know me too well. There is a pretty new ski area that opened last year. They’re also selling lots. Given how nice Jim’s place is, I was thinking about getting something for the future. Park City is forty minutes from the Salt Lake airport. It might be nice to be able to take a hop from San Francisco to Salt Lake in the morning and be on the slopes before lunch once we start at Stanford.”

“That sounds cool. Why don’t we talk to the parents and see?”

I hugged her. “How about we get the families together for dinner and discuss it?”

“I’ll call and invite them over as soon as you check with your Mom,” she said. “What’s the worst they can say, no?”

Which is exactly what Janet did say.

“No. I’m not comfortable even if we all go. Paul, I know you would do anything to protect Jeryl, but I need time to think this over. Jerry, and the girls and I are all going up to Michigan to spend a little time with my mother. We’ll discuss things and we can all get together after the break.”

“Janet,” Jerry said. “Don’t you think Paul at least deserves to be part of the discussion?”

Janet seemed surprised at Jerry disagreeing with her.

Jeryl grabbed my hand and squeezed it before I could say anything. Jyl studiously moved food around her plate.

Finally, Jim jumped into the breach. “Look. Paul and I have been discussing security. I’ve got three firms that come highly recommended and have done this sort of work for multiple teenage clients before. What if we get them here to meet, then pick one, and use spring break as a test run to see how we feel about them?”

Janet seemed surprised. In both lives and many closer interactions over the past two years, I had never seen her look surprised. “I hadn’t realized you were that serious about security.”

“As Candace pointed out to both Paul and I, anyone who recognizes Paul may have an ulterior motive for interacting with him; positively or negatively. Having a professional security assessment performed is the minimum we can settle for. Hiring a firm to do that and provide greater protection as needed is the first step. I know that if Paul -- and by extension Jeryl -- are not comfortable with whoever we hire, they will be inclined to try and ‘slip away’ from people who are there for their protection. I don’t want that to happen.”

“And a week vacation with them in tow is how we can see if they are comfortable?”

“I can’t think of a better method. We all get a nice vacation and we have a lot of situations to interact with and observe our security associates.”

“And you want Jerry’s and my input?”

“Of course we do,” my mother said. “If something happened to Jeryl while she was with Paul, I would never forgive myself. I also don’t want either of us to worry when they are out. For your peace of mind, you have to be part of the decision-making process.”

Jerry reached over and took Janet’s hand. “We’ll be happy to help pick the security firm. What’s the plan?”

Jim smiled. “I can have them up here Thursday afternoon. I thought we would have the adults interview them first and then let Paul and Jeryl talk with them.”

“What about me?” Jyl asked.

Janet gave her a look. “What about you?”

Jyl blushed. “Well, I mean Paul is my friend and Jeryl is my sister. Don’t I get to be part of the process?”

“You can join Jeryl and me,” I said. I was rewarded with a smile.

“Anyway, I think it is up to us as the parents to make sure whomever Jeryl and Paul pick that we are comfortable with them.”

“But you want to let Paul and Jeryl choose?”

“Of course, with our input. They will be the ones spending most of the time with whoever we hire.”

Jerry nodded. “It sounds reasonable.”

Janet sighed heavily. It wasn’t the decision she wanted, but it appeared she could live with it. “Ok. We can talk to the security experts and then decide about spring break.”

Jeryl and I smiled at each other. I knew any trip we took would include her parents and not entail us having any alone time, but I was ready for a break.

Two days later, we were meeting with the security firms. Jim and Mom and Janet and Jerry were interviewing them in the dining room in the house. Jeryl and Jyl and I staked out the office in the shop. The first two firms fell flat for Jeryl and me. Jyl thought the second was alright, but nothing special.

“Jim told them about all of our requirements, right?” Jeryl asked.

“I assume so. Why?”

“Those two fail on stupidity grounds then. If they couldn’t be bothered to send one of their female escorts down for me to meet, they don’t deserve your money.”

I chuckled as there was a soft knock on the office door. I stood to answer it and get our last interview done.

I was pleasantly surprised to see an attractive woman standing in the hall. She was about five-eight, but I thought part of that was her heels. She had reddish-brown hair pulled into a loose ponytail and blue eyes. Her eyebrows were naturally arched, giving her a serious air, but her lips twitched with a smirk, belying a sense of humor.

“You must be Paul Taylor,” she said with an English accent as she extended her hand.

I shook it, surprised by the firm grip and motioned her into the office. She was dressed neatly in a pair of tight black pants with over the calf boots, an ivory turtleneck sweater and an off-white blazer. She was very well put together.

“I am,” I finally managed to say as I motioned her to my usual chair and returned to my seat on the couch, next to Jeryl with Jyl at the far end. “This is my girlfriend Jeryl, and her sister Jyl. And you must be Alison Wilson.”

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