Chapter 2

I mulled the incident over and over in my mind. Had I really gone back to 1957 and had sex with, who, a younger version of the old shopkeeper? The math worked out. If she was eighteen back then, adding the difference, she'd be - seventy-two! The exact amount I'd paid for the clock. I needed to see her again, to validate my memories, and to learn what in blazes was going on.

I skipped breakfast and went out to my car. On the way, I emptied the mailbox and pawed through the stack. A few bills, a catalog, and a glossy postcard from Mrs. Hendricks, president of the Parent-Teacher Organization. Homely woman! I threw the mail on the passenger seat and drove straight to the quaint row of shops. I parked and jogged to the garden-level store. Instead of an antique store with a misspelled sign, the shop was a toy store. Where did the old woman's store go in just one day? I turned and walked down the block when I saw an old brownstone, the only brick building on the block, with the oddly spelled ANTIQUIES sign. I walked up the steps of the two-story and entered. She was there all right, perhaps a bit trimmer, smiling in a beguiling manner, as if we'd just finished coitus. "I knew you'd be back. Where is the clock?"

"It's at home. Can you please tell me what's going on?"

Her smile evaporated. "But you were supposed to bring it back. I only loaned it to you."

"No you didn't! You sold it to me, for seventy-two cents. Your current age, by the way. I figured it out."

She came closer. I could smell coffee on her breath. "That clock is a valuable artifact that has been in my family since it was constructed. I loaned it to you, so you could fulfill our shared destiny. But now it belongs back in the cupboard."

Shared destiny? A tumble in the sack was more like it. "Just what does it do, exactly?"

She raised one eyebrow. "Did you not experience it for yourself? It focused your inherent sexual attention on me - and you had some yesterday, don't deny it - and pulled you back to my first sexual encounter. You had to go back, because it was you who took my virginity all those years ago. But it must be in my family's possession, so that its power cannot be abused."

I was amazed. "So it allows time travel?"

"Shhhh." She nodded her towards other customers wandering the two floors filled with antiques. The selection was much better today. Perhaps there was still a chance to get Maggie a gift. "Yes, but in a limited manner. The clock matches an aroused male with a specific female's pheromones. Then it catapults the male back in time, to just before the woman's first sexual experience."

I was disappointed that I couldn't go back and prevent Lee Harvey Oswald from killing Kennedy, or watch Martin Luther King's "I have a dream" speech. "I can't just pick a date and time?"

"Of course not. And the male must be very careful to perform the act only, because any other changes can ripple forward."

"Like your shop. It was a tiny place yesterday, and today it's huge."

"I wasn't aware of this. There, you see, you've witnessed a modification of the future yourself. Something about our encounter changed my family or me in unpredictable ways. I know how my family obtained the deed to this property, but I can't tell you why our encounter made a difference. Now, if you'll bring the clock back to me-"

I dug my hands into my jacket pocket and came up with the receipt. "See, here? This is a sales receipt, not a rental agreement. You sold the clock to me, fair and square, for a bargain price. And I'm keeping it." I stormed towards the door.

She pointed a bent accusing finger. "Then beware its use. Your actions will have consequences."

I snorted a reply and strolled down the block, still looking for a gift for my wife.

One of the venues I didn't remember from the previous day was a wine shop with outdoor seating for patrons who wanted to sample various vintages and wineries. A great marketing technique, I suppose, or a high-class hangout for winos. Sitting at one table next to the sidewalk was a heavyset redhead. Even from a distance, I recognized her as Angie, the mother of one of Felice's friends. I looked the other way, hoping to avoid recognition. I was about to pass her when I felt my coat get tugged. She'd caught me. "Charlie! Charlie Norris!"

I turned around to see her enhanced red hair, bloodshot eyes and buckteeth. "Hi, Angie. Nice day for shopping."

Her words were on the verge of becoming slurred. "And drinking. Have a seat. I hate to drink alone."

That hadn't been stopping her, with a dozen empty sample cups on her table. "How's Stephanie?" Her daughter, also a redhead.

"She's real good. A good daughter." Angie choked back a tear. "But I'm not a very good mother. I should be able to, with just one kid, right? That shouldn't be so hard." She emptied the cup in front of her with one gulp, and then raised her hand. "Can I get another sample? Something drier?"

A polite shop clerk came over. "You've really had many more samples that we-"

"Pour me another one, dammit!" she barked.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Where was I?" Her face went from perplexed to sad in a split second. "Jason and I are probably going to get separated, maybe even divorced. That will mess up Stephanie's life for sure. And all because - because -" Angie gripped my arm hard. "Jason says I'm a lousy lay." I made no comment. Even if Angie was willing, sex with a drunk was stooping too low. I didn't need a release that bad, taking advantage of Angie's condition. "It's all my mother's fault, setting me up." The clerk refilled Angie's glass.

"Your mother fixed you up with Jason?"

"No, no, no." She leaned closer, still holding my arm. "My mother arranged for my first sex." Angie's blouse had a few too many buttons open. Her breasts hung, even with support from a bra that was exposed by her posture. Despite my willpower, her grip on me and the peek-a-boo was too much. I got an erection. "He was terrible. He slapped me and hit me with his belt. I was never so humiliated in my life!"

My immediate thought was, 'Too bad someone nice didn't introduce her to sex in a more caring and loving way-' and then I remembered the clock. I could be Angie's first sex partner. Treat her with respect and kindness, be gentle and- my cock was hard with the thought. All I'd have to do was go home, go to bed, and end up in the sack with Angie. "I am so sorry. Can I drive you home? I'd hate for you to get into an accident."

The wine clerk breathed a sigh of relief. I walked Angie to my car. She clung to me like Saran Wrap on a clean bowl. My erection didn't soften. And in the car, her hand snaked out and gripped my upper thigh. I considered walking her inside her house and fucking her right there. But that wouldn't repair her current situation. "Why don't you take a nap? It'll do you good."