When you can be anywhere in time for as long as you want, at any age and at any physical sizes you want to be, the possibilities are endless. The only thing I need is the tool I found and the cautiously learned knowledge of how to use it.

My name is Ed and I’m a successful forty two year old sales rep for a low profile Fortune 100 company. Instead of being a regular payroll employee, I set my own appointments and work on a strictly commission basis. I’m what is called an Independent Contractor. As such, I keep my own financial records and pay my own taxes from whatever income is left after expense deductions.

During my nineteen years in the sales field, I’ve often heard of myself being referred to as a workaholic. But lately, I’ve found myself slacking off and taking what, for a self-employed individual like myself, amounts to an expensive vacation.

All through high school and college and ever since, I’ve been driven to excel at whatever I do and the positive result is that I’ve built up a very substantial bankroll and also own several profitable investment properties.

Though I’ve never let it control me, I’m a man with a strong hunger for sex, but because I’ve controlled that hunger, (on pride and principle, I absolutely refuse to pay for sex) it has left me a sexually undernourished man ... Not because I’m physically unattractive, which I’ve been sincerely told I’m not, or out of shape because I eat healthy and work out regularly. The simple truth is that my early formed work habits haven’t allowed for time to ‘slow down and smell the roses’, as the saying goes.

When I rolled out of bed this morning, I had no idea that my sexual ‘famine’ was about to end ... possibly for all time.

I’d rented a bike and was riding it on the city’s paved and, except for me, deserted bike path. Pedaling along through the peaceful park, my mind was sorting through some possible places to go tonight, to see if I could make a female connection or two, when I heard a loud WHOOSH, off to my right, that ended with a bone jarring thud, quickly followed by fairly large chunks of dirt and sod landing all around me.

Surprised by the sudden violence that had unceremoniously interrupted my sexual musings; I swerved the bike off the opposite side of the path and jumped off to see what the hell had happened.

What I saw looked like something out of a science fiction movie. There was a relatively short, deeply plowed ten to twelve foot wide groove in the grass covered earth between two huge oak trees and at the end of the groove was a large, oblong silver object with fresh dirt and all kinds of tree roots on and around it. Obviously, the large, at least century old, tree roots had helped to slow and stop the object’s forward progress.

Just like in the sci-fi movies I’d seen, it looked like some kind of space craft had crashed and had miraculously missed hitting anything but the ground ... though that looked like small consolation to whoever or whatever had been inside of it because, now, it was split open and some of its contents were scattered in the grass beyond where it had hit.

As I scanned the debris field, I saw a larger ‘something’ among the scattered debris that could have been its passenger but, if it was, he/she or it wasn’t moving. Whether it was morbid curiosity or an instinct to see if there was anything that I could do I don’t know but I dropped the bike and cautiously approached the impact area.

Just as I got to the mostly buried large silver object, I saw what looked like a wisp of silver smoke start rising from the larger of the scattered pieces of debris. The ‘smoke’ quickly became a large eerie puff and whatever it had been coming from simply disappeared ... as if it had just vaporized. I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand up and my first thought was, ‘What the holy HELL?!!... ‘

I stood there for several seconds, totally spooked by what I’d just seen and leery of moving closer. As if time was standing still, I simply stared at the empty spot where, only seconds earlier, there’d been ‘something’. The first thought that ran through my mind was “Holy shit!! This isn’t sci-fi. It’s fucking sci-fact.”

After whatever time had lapsed in the world of here and now, I was yanked out of my little time lock by the sounds of all kinds of emergency vehicle sirens going off. There was no doubt that they’d soon be converging on the scene of destruction that I was standing next to. Not wanting to be publicly interviewed as the only ‘local yokel’ who’d actually witnessed the crash, I decided that I’d better get my ass out of there before anyone showed up.

I turned to head back toward the rented bike when I saw something lying on the ground, four feet or so in front of me. It looked like some kind of thin, super fancy cell phone ... or like one of the ‘communicators’ used in the Star Trek TV and movie series’. Its metallic finish glinted in the sunlight as I leaned down and picked it up. It was as light as a feather ... like holding nothing. Firm to the touch, its weight was no more than that of an air filled kid’s balloon.

Surprised and mentally dazzled by its weightlessness, I stood there for three or four seconds, looking at and ‘hefting’ it, but the sound of sirens was fast approaching so I jammed the ‘phone/communicator’ in my pocket and ran to the bike. When I got to it, I jumped on and headed across the grass, directly away from the crash scene, over a rise in the landscape and down toward a thick stand of trees. Just as I reached the trees, I glimpsed the flashing lights of the first approaching vehicle. I continued into the trees and, a second later, the field of vision was blocked. No one had seen me.

I made a wide circle back to where I’d rented the bike and turned it in. The attendant asked if I knew what the sirens were all about and I told him that I didn’t ... then added, “Must be a big fire or a bad accident.”

Leaving him rubber-necking the emergency vehicles, as they zoomed by and into the park, I went to my car, climbed into it and headed back to my apartment.

Shortly after I got home, all the TV news stations began reporting the “Breaking News” story of some kind of wingless craft having crashed in the park and I knew that most people would be glued to their sets for the night ... waiting for the latest updates.

Some camera crews had gotten there quickly enough to record broadcast footage but the military had soon arrived and had immediately set up a perimeter so wide and secure that it became impossible for the news crews to get more. Nevertheless, the footage that they’d already shot and scampered away with, when they saw the military arriving, showed a tube shaped, wingless craft ... and that, of course, had everyone looking through the footage, frame by frame, for signs of ‘little green men’ in the debris or lurking behind the park’s trees.

Since I was the only one who’d seen the silver smoke and witnessed the complete disappearance of whatever had caused it, that spicy little tidbit would never be reported.

Still wearing the clothes that I’d had on while biking, I reached into my pocket and pulled out the thing that looked like a fancy cell phone and began inspecting it to see if I could figure out what it was and what it was used for. The silvery glint was still there, even though there was no sunlight shining on it, now, ... and it still weighed nothing so I was sure that it’d come from inside the crashed vehicle.

As I turned it over in my hand, I saw that there were faint symbols etched into the lower right corner of one surface. From the way it felt and fitted my hand, the etched side seemed to be the front. (which I thought was strange because both sides were shaped the same.) Running my finger over it, the ‘etched’ corner area was actually a totally smooth surface. On closer inspection, I saw a faint line along the thin edge that went all the way around it but the preciseness of how the hair thin line fit together made me doubt that there were two pieces.

Nevertheless, if there were, there must be some way of opening it. Not seeing anything that resembled a hinge, I did what I’d seen done, hundreds of times, on Star Trek ... I held the sides between my fingers and flipped my wrist. I almost dropped it when the front flipped up and open, just as Captain Kirk’s or Spock’s communicators always had. Since the entire device weighed less than nothing, I wondered what kind of mass could generate enough inertia to allow a simple flip of the wrist to swing it open, especially when I couldn’t get it to open with my fingers or fingernails.

It was certainly no cell phone and, as I held and closely looked it over, I realized that there was a faint vibration coming from it ... as if some kind of miniaturized power generator had turned on when it opened.

When turning it, I quickly discovered that only when I looked directly at the inner surfaces could I see that there was some kind of key pad on both exposed surfaces but the slightly glowing symbols on them weren’t like anything I’d ever seen before. Strangely, when slightly turned away, the symbols disappeared and all that showed was a flat, smooth surface. The line from The Wizard of Oz popped into my head, “You’re not in Kansas anymore”. I knew that I had something here but I’ll be damned if I know what it is or what it’s for.

With all the TV news coverage about the crashed ‘alien space ship’ in the park and knowing that there wouldn’t be many people leaving their TV sets for a night on the town, it looked like it was going to be just me, Mother Thumb and her four daughters spending another evening at home.

The timing of the crash, even though it was a highly unusual event, kind of pissed me off because I’d really been looking forward to possibly getting some pussy tonight ... even if it wasn’t good pussy. After all, it’d been at least three months since I’d buried my eight and a quarter inch bone in anything but my right hand. Worse yet, it’d been over a year since I’d had a woman who was actually a halfway decent fuck and nearly two years since I’d had a really good one. Unfortunately, that one happened while I was on the road. She was an extremely attractive, well built woman and we’d spent a full afternoon testing the structural limits of my Hyatt Regency hotel room bed but she was married to a local politician and was afraid of being found out so she wouldn’t agree to a repeat engagement. As sour luck would have it, she called three days later just as I was checking out to leave for another city to follow up on a sales call that’d taken me months to set up. (I’d made the sales call, made the sale and continued my life without pussy)

Kicking back in my recliner, I looked at each of the symbols on the device and saw one that resembled a backward pointing arrow and another that looked like a forward pointing one ... symbols that are commonly used by anyone who’s used a computer to back up or to move forward. Not knowing what to expect, I put my finger on the backward pointing ‘arrow’.

Instantly, my surroundings became a blur. Surprised (and scared), I looked up to see what was going on and saw that I was now surrounded by some kind of halo. The blurring effect continued until I realized that I was still holding my finger against the symbol on the device. I let up and, instantly, the blurring stopped but my original surroundings were gone. Instead, I was sitting at a child’s schoolroom desk and the device in my hand seemed larger than it’d been. I looked at it and that’s when I realized that it couldn’t be MY hand that was holding it because it was a much younger and smaller looking hand. I was shocked when I traced the length of the attached arm and discovered that it was attached to ME.

Stunned, I suddenly realized that, somehow, my body had become a younger version of me. (something that I’d often fantasized about) At the same time, I realized that I was actually in a school classroom. Looking around the room, it seemed vaguely familiar but most school classrooms are just that ... classrooms.

As I continued taking in my surroundings, I saw that there were other students sitting behind desks just like the one I was sitting at. Checking their faces, some looked vaguely familiar but the real surprise was when I saw two faces that were unmistakable. They were both girls that I’d been in ninth grade with and had had crushes on. Marlene was sitting to the left of me, just as she had then and Margi was a row forward, on the right. Without thinking of where I was, I loudly and clearly enunciated the words, “What the fuck??!”

Every head turned toward me and an infuriated Mrs. Green stood up and snapped, “What did you say, young man??! ... and don’t you DARE repeat it! We don’t use that kind of language in this classroom. You get out of that chair, right now, and come with me. We’re going down to see Mr. Fredricks.”

‘God Damn it!!’, I thought to myself. I knew that I’d screwed up, big time, and made a silent vow to not let that happen again. I sincerely apologized to Mrs. Green but she was having none of it and repeated her command for me to come with her.

As I slid my chair back to stand, I smoothly slid the ‘device’ into my pocket. The pocket seemed too small for a loose pair of sweat pants and that’s when I realized that I was wearing clothes that I remembered having owned and worn ... almost thirty years ago. A thought flashed through my mind; ‘How the hell is this possible? How could my clothes be different from when I was sitting in my recliner, when I still had that silver whatever it is in my hand?’ I checked my back pocket and there was no wallet in it. Checking further, the forty or fifty dollars in cash that I usually carry in my left front pocket wasn’t there, either.

And now I was being taken down to Mr. Fredricks’ office!? ... I knew damned well that he has been dead for approximately fifteen years because I’d attended his funeral. So how could it be that I was being taken to his office? I even clearly remembered the day that he’d written and signed the third of three required character referrences, clearing me to get a State issued Concealed Weapon Carry Permit.

As I walked to the front of the room, all eyes were fixed on me. I knew that I’d better keep my mouth shut because there was nothing I could say to make anyone believe that I was really a successful forty two year old professional sales rep whose cognizance and life’s experiences were now present in my formerly fourteen year old body. If I said anything as crazy as that would sound, I’d more likely end up in some ‘understanding’ psychiatrist’s office.

As we left the classroom and started down the hallway, Mrs. Green made it clear that she wasn’t interested in hearing my sincerely stated apology and a minute later we were walking into the same school Office that I remembered from my school days. It was de je vu all over again. I could see that Mrs. Gelder was still the school secretary and that added to my confusion about what was going on because I knew that she’d been killed in a car wreck, the year before I graduated. The only thing that made sense of all this is that, somehow, I’d been transported backward in time ... about twenty eight years backward.