Table of Contents

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1.      The Big Picture (Fiction). Older man discovers he can enter the photos in his albums. https://richardbellush2.blogspot.com/2024/02/the-big-picture.html
2.      Up a Tree (Fiction). Man wakes up in a tree strapped in an airplane passenger seat. https://richardbellush2.blogspot.com/2023/01/up-tree.html
3.      Leftover Wine (Nonfiction). First and last hangovers. https://richardbellush2.blogspot.com/2023/01/leftover-wine.html
4.      Fool’s Gold (Fiction). The AIs are always listening. https://richardbellush2.blogspot.com/2022/05/fools-gold.html
5.      Delenda Est (Historical Fiction). Carthaginian lad’s desire to end his anguish clashes with his drive to survive. https://richardbellush2.blogspot.com/2021/03/delenda-est.html
6.      Diner (Fiction). Young man with poor prospects eats at a 24-hour diner unlike any he has seen before. https://richardbellush2.blogspot.com/2020/01/diner.html
7.      Beneficiary (Fiction). Stirring trouble from the grave. https://richardbellush2.blogspot.com/2019/07/beneficiary.html
8.      Crystal Sky (Science Fiction). Civilized crustaceans on Europa face the prospect of First Contact. https://richardbellush2.blogspot.com/2018/12/crystal-sky.html
9.      Apostate (Fiction). Messing a Mesolithic message. Set in Anatolia 12,000 years ago. http://richardbellush2.blogspot.com/2018/02/apostate.html
10.  Smoke Gets in Your Eyes (Fiction). Prepper gets a chance to use his hideaway when the Calamity happens. http://richardbellush2.blogspot.com/2017/07/smoke-gets-in-your-eyes.html
11.  Gladys All Over (Fiction). Man plays with matches when he hires detective R Farkas to    find an old flame. http://richardbellush2.blogspot.com/2017/02/gladys-all-over.html
12.  Trick (Fiction). Father/son activity on Halloween. http://richardbellush2.blogspot.com/2016/11/trick.html
13.  What the Devolved Hominid Is Wearing (Fiction). Woman investigates the disappearance of her sister, a tabloid journalist with a theory about Bigfoot. http://richardbellush2.blogspot.com/2016/08/what-devolved-hominid-is-wearing.html
14.  Bequest (Fiction). High school senior gets an unusual tip after giving a man a ride. http://richardbellush2.blogspot.com/2016/04/bequest.html
15.  Circuits Circus (SF). Humans prefer AI robots to each other. http://richardbellush2.blogspot.com/2015/11/circuits-circus.html
16.  The Longest Date (Fiction). Encounter with an old flame at a speed dating event. http://richardbellush2.blogspot.com/2015/07/the-longest-date.html
17.  Higgs Boat (SF). An experiment with altering the Higgs field goes badly. http://richardbellush2.blogspot.com/2015/06/higgs-boat.html
18.  Higher Education (Fiction). Prep school students ruthlessly plan their futures. For one a sense of history proves useful http://richardbellush2.blogspot.com/2015/02/the-saturnine-solution.html
19.  The Saturnine Solution (SF). During a political revolution on Titan in the distant future, humans question their origins on that world http://richardbellush2.blogspot.com/2015/02/the-saturnine-solution.html
20.  Cosmic Intruder (SF). Hooligans invade an old man’s home on the shore of Lake Pontchartrain, but don’t get paid off as they intend. http://richardbellush2.blogspot.com/2014/12/cosmic-intruder.html
21.  Tropic Freeze (SF). During a new Ice Age, a denizen of the snowy north reluctantly sails south with three young charges. http://richardbellush2.blogspot.com/2014/09/tropic-freeze.html
22.  Cold Dishes (Fiction). A bachelor Great Uncle suddenly marries, and the motive is vengeance. http://richardbellush2.blogspot.com/2014/04/cold-dishes.html
23.  Lanamite (SF). A playful adventure story of anti-gravity and an unlikely alien invasion. http://richardbellush2.blogspot.com/2014/02/lanamite.html
24.  The Reptile Way (SF). There are people who argue in all seriousness (see David Icke The Reptilian Conspiracy) that the world is run by interdimensional reptiles through human puppets who belong to a particular bloodline. What if they’re right? http://richardbellush2.blogspot.com/2013/11/the-reptile-way.html
25.  Sidewalk Love (Fiction). A period piece set in 1976 about a boy and his tart. http://richardbellush2.blogspot.com/2013/10/sidewalk-love.html
26.  Fault Lines (SF). In a near-future of multi-sided civil disturbances and home-printed weapons, rioters consistently blame their victims. http://richardbellush2.blogspot.com/2013/06/fault-lines.html
27.  Graduation Day (SF/Paranormal). Headmaster of private school in Georgia has transferred consciousness into select students since 1871 in order to recover youth time and again. http://richardbellush2.blogspot.com/2013/04/graduation-day.html
28.  Through the Looking Glasses (Fiction). In a near-future of universal Virtiglasses (internet-connected glasses with heads-up displays), a suburban high school clique exploits their weaknesses and practices thuggery. http://richardbellush2.blogspot.com/2013/03/through-looking-glasses.html
29.  Horse Sense (Non-Fiction). Wipe-Out on horseback. http://richardbellush2.blogspot.com/2012/10/horse-sense.html
30.  The Lion’s Share (SF). On distant world, riding the local fauna is a dangerous sport. http://richardbellush2.blogspot.com/2012/10/the-lions-share.html
31.  How to Avoid Work and Flirt with the Butcher (Nonfiction). In 1910 my 10-y.o. grandfather acquires a race horse for $10. http://richardbellush2.blogspot.com/2012/10/how-to-avoid-work-and-flirt-with-butcher.html
32.  Model ET (SF). In 1910 boys discover a vehicle unlike any car they had seen before. http://richardbellush2.blogspot.com/2012/10/model-et.html
33.  The Roxy Caution (Nonfiction). A lass and a loss on Esplanade. http://richardbellush2.blogspot.com/2012/10/the-roxy-caution.html
34.  Ghillie Suit (SF). A young man in New Orleans learns to be invisible. http://richardbellush2.blogspot.com/2012/10/ghillie-suit.html
35.  22 October (Nonfiction). Schooltime bomb drill and the Cuban Missile Crisis. http://richardbellush2.blogspot.com/2012/10/october-22-1962.html
36.  Reap the Whirlwind (Fiction). Schooltime bomb drill and the Cuban Missile Crisis. http://richardbellush2.blogspot.com/2012/10/reap-whirlwind.html
37.  Wings (SF). Observer created reality. A man conjures up a pterodactyl. http://richardbellush2.blogspot.com/2012/10/wings.html
38.  The Final Conquest (Nonfiction). Prep school hijinks: the 1970 raid on the Senior Porch. http://richardbellush2.blogspot.com/2012/10/the-final-conquest.html
39.  Nondomestic (Fiction). Smarter than your average cat. http://richardbellush2.blogspot.com/2012/10/nondomestic.html
40.  Wake Up Call (Nonfiction). Learning of the death of an ex. http://richardbellush2.blogspot.com/2012/10/wake-up-call.html
41.  Going through the Motions (SF). Love with the perfect robot is disrupted by a crime. http://richardbellush2.blogspot.com/2012/10/going-through-motions.html
42.  The Driving Lesson (Nonfiction). New driver fails to distinguish between the brake and the accelerator. http://richardbellush2.blogspot.com/2012/10/the-driving-lesson.html
43.  By the Sound of It (SF). Private space flight and a reluctant pilot. http://richardbellush2.blogspot.com/2012/10/by-sound-of-it.html
44.  Window of Opportunity (Fiction). A gruesome accident with a pop star gives a young man a ghoulish opportunity. http://richardbellush2.blogspot.com/2012/10/window-of-opportunity.html
45.  Straitened Circumstances (PaleoFiction). Modern humans exit Africa c. 70,000BC for less than noble reasons. http://richardbellush2.blogspot.com/2012/09/straitened-circumstances.html
46.  Dressed to the Nineveh (Historical fiction). Student scribe unexpectedly finds himself in intrigue with the Assyrian throne at stake. http://richardbellush2.blogspot.com/2012/05/dressed-to-nineveh.html
47.  Charley’s InQuanto (SF). Afterlife inside a VR game. http://richardbellush2.blogspot.com/2012_02_01_archive.html
48.  Living in Clovis (SF/PaleoFiction). Accidental time travel to prehistoric North America. http://richardbellush2.blogspot.com/2011_12_01_archive.html
49.  Sky Wheels (or Old Derby Girls Never Die) (SF). Mystery involving roller derby on a space station – a stand-alone sequel to Return of the Judi below. http://richardbellush2.blogspot.com/2011_10_01_archive.html
50.  The Long Wait (SF). Genetically modified human lives on Mars. http://richardbellush2.blogspot.com/2011_08_01_archive.html
51.  Temporary Lodgings (SF/Paranormal). Desperate man learns to project his identity into another person. http://richardbellush2.blogspot.com/2011_07_01_archive.html
52.  Afterglow (SF). 19th century scientist discovers how to extend life through suspended animation. http://richardbellush2.blogspot.com/2011_06_01_archive.html
53.  Dancing on a Slab (Fiction). Go-go dancer struggles with an abusive relationship. http://richardbellush2.blogspot.com/2011/05/dancing-on-slab.html
54.  Lucky (SF/Paranormal). Young man is convinced he is a jinx. http://richardbellush2.blogspot.com/2011/05/lucky.html
55.  Soot (SF). Surviving in New Hampshire the day after an asteroid strikes earth. http://richardbellush2.blogspot.com/2011/05/soot.html
56.  Unravel (SF). Dilettante scientist tries to exploit genetic engineering (and a genetic engineer). http://richardbellush2.blogspot.com/2011/04/unravel.html
57.  Blow (Fiction). A night out includes dust-ups involving cocaine. http://richardbellush2.blogspot.com/2011_04_01_archive.html
58.  Homework (SF). Student essay written on a moon in a distant star system on the topic of alien life. http://richardbellush2.blogspot.com/2011/03/homework.html
59.  Brown Acid (Fiction). Psychedelic artist takes the brown acid at Woodstock and flows with the times. http://richardbellush2.blogspot.com/2011/03/brown-acid.html
60.  Scum (SF). Cynical host of a TV show about UFOs and the paranormal gets a surprise. http://richardbellush2.blogspot.com/2011/03/scum.html
61.  Not Just for Breakfast (Fiction). Woman tries to free herself from mysterious abductor. http://richardbellush2.blogspot.com/2011/03/not-just-for-breakfast.html
62.  Snug as a Bug (SF). A remote viewing invention opens a dimensional door. http://richardbellush2.blogspot.com/2011/02/snug-as-bug_27.html
63.  Deep Fried (Satire). Illegal trade in baked goods. http://richardbellush2.blogspot.com/2011/02/deep-fried.html
64.  Modern Times (PaleoFiction). Life in southern Africa 100,000 BC. http://richardbellush2.blogspot.com/2011/01/modern-times.html
65.  Close Counts in Horseshoes (Fiction). Dangerous love in Reno NV. http://richardbellush2.blogspot.com/2011/01/close-counts-in-horseshoes.html
66.  Return of the Judi (SF). Security Chief on an orbiting hotel recognizes a guest and investigates a death. A prequel to Sky Wheels (or Old Derby Girls Never Die). http://richardbellush2.blogspot.com/2011/01/second-best.html
67.  Alyusha (Historical Fiction). Elderly former WW2 merchant sailor returns to Murmansk on cruise ship. http://richardbellush2.blogspot.com/2011/01/alyusha.html
68.  Neander Valley Girl (or Cavemen Behaving Badly) (PaleoFiction). In 35,000 BC a young teen girl flees her family and encounters Neanderthals. http://richardbellush2.blogspot.com/2010/12/neander-valley-girl-or-cavemen-behaving.html
69.  The Great Gaffe (Fiction). [with apologies to Fitzgerald]. Con man has brief success. http://richardbellush2.blogspot.com/2010/12/short-fiction-with-apologies-to.html
70.  Slaying the Blues (Fiction). Blues singer believes she can identify vampires when she drinks. http://richardbellush2.blogspot.com/2010_11_01_archive.html

The Big Picture

It was late evening, but Reid decided to check his mailbox at the end of his driveway. He had forgotten earlier. Reid stopped twice in each direction on the short walk in order to catch his breath. He knew his name was a variant of “Red,” and he had no doubt his complexion was currently appropriate. He had never regained his stamina after a bout with COVID a few years earlier. His lung capacity had been impaired permanently. He knew that being a septuagenarian didn’t help. Somehow that decade had crept up on him. He liked to quote Joe Walsh: “I had a lot more fun being 20 in the 70s than 70 in the 20s.” In truth, Reid was halfway to 80.
 
His friends kept telling him “75 is not old,” but his body disagreed. True, among his own acquaintances were competitive runners and bodybuilders older than he, but he had no illusions ever would be one of them. For his age cohort, on the bell curve of health he was no better than centerline in most ways, and to the left in others. He had no conditions that required medication, so at least there was that, but his youthful vigor was definitely in the rear view mirror. He had reason to believe he looked older than his age, too. Several of his cousins, nephews, and nieces, to whom he hadn’t spoken in years recently had reached out to him on social media. A few even stopped by for quick visits. He was childless and secure financially, so he suspected their motives were not simply familial bonding.
 
His only real family – those to whom he once had a true sense of belonging – had been his immediate family of parents and siblings. They were all gone. So were the close friends of his youth. He hadn’t expected to be the last one standing, but there he was. He wasn’t lonely in the usual sense. He had friendships he had built in more recent decades but they were not quite the same. The more recent friends lacked the deep history with him. He had ceased dating in his 60s, feeling that too was a young man’s game. In defiance of actuarial tables that favored women in longevity, of the four with whom he had serious romances in his life, three were gone as well: two from health complications and one by her own hand. The survivor was his ex-wife. He had been 32 and she 28 at the wedding. She filed for divorce after three years. She said she felt stifled. Citing environmental concerns and her responsibility to the planet, she also said she decided she didn’t want kids and that marriage to anyone was pointless in that case. Nonetheless, a year after she left him she married her boss. They proceeded to have one son and two daughters. Reid didn’t mind living alone. In any case he was used to it. The upkeep of the house and grounds was getting a bit much for him however. His modest suburban ranch home looked frayed inside and out, but not actually dilapidated. He could live with that.
 
He rarely dwelled on his approaching mortality. He had no supernatural beliefs and was in no hurry to leave this world, which he firmly believed was the only world, but he had ceased to fear the eventuality. There was nothing to be done about it. What bothered him more about aging was the loss of the casual strength of youth, but there was nothing he could do to recover that either: well, almost nothing. He could reminisce, which was pale way to revisit his past strengths, but it was a way.
 
Back inside his house, Reid dropped the mail on the kitchen counter. He would pay the bills later. He used paper checks to the companies that still allowed them instead of electronic payments. He assumed that eventually none would, and the thought triggered mild nostalgia. Reid walked to his hallway closet and pulled one of the photo albums off the top shelf. This one included photos of the years between his 10^th and 25^th birthdays. He sat on the living room sofa and opened the album. He smiled at the pictures of his childhood home, his pets, his parents, and his boyhood friends. He ran his fingers over the photo of a lake where his family vacationed most summers. He felt crisp air temperature on his fingertips.
 
“What the hell?”
 
Reid pushed down. His fingers, his hand, and then his whole arm seemed to enter the photo altering their dimensions as they slipped through. There was no sense of constriction or discomfort. The mismatch of photo size and arm size was the least weird thing about what was happening.
 
“This is impossible,” he said firmly as he withdrew his arm. He examined his hand and arm. They were back to normal dimensions and were undamaged. The photo was unchanged. He picked up the photo album and held the open page under a side table lamp. A reflected image of the lamp shone on the shiny surface of the photo. So, it had a surface. Photons were not passing through into the picture.
 
Reid sat back on the sofa and lay the open album beside him on a cushion. Had he nodded off to sleep and had some weird short lucid dream? Was he still asleep? He again touched the photo. Again his fingers entered the photo and felt cool air. He withdrew his hand. He knew delusions sometimes accompanied dementia, but he had no other signs of that ailment. He prided himself, in fact, on being sharp of mind regardless of other ways his body was failing him. Was some cosmic prankster playing games with him? A lifelong secularist skeptic, he was even less happy to accept this possibility than dementia as an explanation. He decided to revisit the matter when he trusted his own senses more. He would go to bed. Tomorrow he would wake up. After a cup of coffee, or maybe two cups, he would open the album again. The photos, he was sure would just be photos. He closed the album and headed for his bedroom.
 
Reid was worried he would lie awake all night, but he dozed off as soon as he closed his eyes. He slept fitfully with dreams in which memories from his childhood blended with his present-day life. In one his thirtysomething mother admonished his 75-year-old self to get up for school and to make his bed. Reid opened his eyes to a room lit brightly by morning sunshine through the windows. The digital clock on the end table read 8 a.m., an hour later than his usual rising time.
 
He slapped his face to be sure he was awake. “Ouch,” he said. He was sure. He arose and went through his usual morning routine of shower, shave, and dress. He pointedly made his bed. He walked to the kitchen and set his coffee maker to work on a pot Colombian blend coffee. He retrieved a can of Friskies cat food from the pantry. The stray cat he had fed for six years was waiting outside his back door. The cat would meow and swat his ankles if he was late with breakfast yet still wouldn’t allow itself to be petted. It would back away if Reid reached out, refusing even the classic finger-to-nose touch. He didn’t know where it spent the night, but was always at the back door in the morning in any weather. Reid had made a cat house for it years earlier and placed it near the back door but the cat never used it, so eventually he removed it.
 
Done with his morning routine, Reid returned to the living room with a mug of coffee in his hand. The album was still on the sofa. He took a sip of coffee and then another. At last he sat down on the sofa, placed the album on the oak coffee table in front of it and opened it to the page he had viewed the previous night. He picked up a pencil from the table and tapped on the image of the lake with the eraser end. The image was solid. He pressed down on the eraser, making a little dent in the photo. He shook his head. Surely he had just fallen asleep the previous night. Maybe it was a full blown hallucination. He smiled, put down the pencil, and tried to tap the photo with his fingers. Instead they met no resistance. Reid closed his eyes and breathed heavily. If this was a hallucination the entire experience of the morning was part of it and he was still trapped in it. Was he in a coma and imagining all this? He picked up his mug and took another sip of coffee. Could you smell and taste coffee in a hallucination?
 
Reid turned to another page of the album. One photo was of an old college buddy. He remembered taking this one. It was in the backyard of his parents’ home where his friend Bernard was visiting for the weekend. They were both 19. Reid reached toward the photo. His hand vanished into the picture and the rest of him followed as though being sucked forward. He tumbled face first on grass. He looked up and saw an astonished Bernard staring at him.
 
“What the hell?!” shouted a voice from behind him.
 
He looked back and saw a cloudy purple rectangle the shape of a photo but much larger in dimension. The voice had come from behind it. A much younger version of himself, camera in hand, walked into view through the rectangle as though it wasn’t there.
 
“Who are you?” his younger self asked.
 
“Sorry bud,” Reid said. “I took a wrong turn somewhere. Sorry.” Reid got up and hurried to the familiar driveway toward Maplewood Road. He resisted the temptation to pat the Chevy Nova parked in the driveway. It had been his vehicle back from 1968 to 1978. He even remembered the license plate.
 
“What was that about?” he heard his younger self ask Bernard.
 
“Got me,” Bernie answered. “Suddenly he was just there like he fell out of a plane or something.”
 
“Weird.”
 
Elder Reid’s lungs ached by the time he reached the road. Reid wasn’t sure where to go. Was this really 1968? If so, he couldn’t buy anything. What little cash he carried had the wrong dates. Besides, there were miles of suburban streets between here and the nearest local shopping center. This iteration of himself wasn’t 19, and he just didn’t have the stamina for a long walk. Reid also wondered if he could return to his own time and place through the same gateway.
 
Reid leaned against a tree by the side of road to catch his breath and consider his situation. A vintage Mercury Cougar rumbled past. Probably a 302 V8 he thought to himself. The female driver was smoking and a 10-year-old was in the front passenger seat. As much as he wanted to see his parents again, Reid decided it was best to avoid interaction with his family at least until he understood the rules better in this… dimension, or whatever it was. Maybe this really was his own past and he was altering it. He decided to lay low until his old backyard was empty and unobserved. Assuming the portal was still there, he would try then to return to his future living room.
 
In addition to the garage attached to his family house was a detached garage with a separate driveway. His carpenter contractor father kept building supplies and a pickup truck in there. Reid tried to keep out of sight of his younger self as he skulked down the second driveway. He reached the garage without being be noticed. He turned the knob on the side door to the structure. It was unlocked. No one locked doors in this neighborhood back then.
 
A green 1965 GMC pickup was inside: a simple straight 6 with a standard “three on the tree” transmission. It too was unlocked. Reid climbed onto the bench seat. He felt at home. New car smell has nothing on old truck smell. R felt at home. Though it was morning back in his living room, in this place dusk already was approaching. He rested while waiting for darkness to fall. When he deemed the night dark enough, he walked from the detached garage toward the back lawn of the main house. The family great Dane bounded out of his doghouse. Reid wasn’t sure how this would go since the dog would bark at strangers, but the normally defensive animal was friendly and affectionate. Reid scratched the dog’s ears and gave him a hug.
 
“You still know me?” The trip was worth it if only to pet Rufus again.
 
Reid could see no sign of the fuzzy rectangle. Was he stranded here? He walked to the spot where he had sprawled on the grass. Behind him the rectangle hung in the air blocking the starlight. Apparently it was visible only from this side and he had walked through it from the other. He pushed his palm against the rectangle. He felt a slight resistance. Suddenly he was sucked forward. As his arms emerged into his living room he grabbed the edges of his coffee table with his hands and pulled himself the rest of the way out of his album. It was still morning. As far as he could tell it was the same moment he had left even though his wristwatch didn’t agree. He looked at the photo in the album. The picture was unchanged. Did everything reset or had he made small but permanent changes to the past?
 
An idea occurred to Reid. He grabbed the TV remote and flipped through channels, resting at Bloomberg business news. There a commentator gave a cogent analysis of interest rate trends. She predicted the fallout on stocks in the banking sector.
 
“If this a hallucination,” Reid said to himself, “it’s a bloody brilliantly constructed one. I don’t think I’m smart enough to invent all this complete with business analyses.”
 
Something else troubled him. He had no memory of an old man appearing in his backyard when he was 19. But then he didn’t understand the rules. Maybe other people would remember his presence in the past. He picked up his cell phone and found a contact number for Bernard. They hadn’t kept up after college, but they exchanged numbers at a class reunion a few years ago. Neither had called since then. He pressed Dial.
 
“Hey, Bernie this is Reid… Yeah a long time. Listen, I know this is a weird question, but something came up and I’m just trying to confirm it. Do you remember when you spent a weekend at my house our second year of college? … Yeah it was our second year. Do you remember an old guy sprawling on the grass in between us when I took a photo? ... No? … Yeah I know it was a long time ago… You’re not saying it didn’t happen, but you don’t remember it … Why? I just had some thoughts about who it might have been… You’re sure you don’t remember anything like that. OK… Yeah… I’ve gotta go, but thanks … We’ll catch up. The next time you are up this way give me a call… Thanks again.”
 
So, Bernie didn’t remember either. But he also said he might have forgotten so that didn’t prove anything definitively. Reid needed to experiment some more. He spent the morning building courage and then had lunch: leftover pasta from the day before. Feeling fortified, Reid found his laptop computer, did some historical financial research, and jotted down a list by hand on a pad of paper. He returned to the living room and opened the album. This time he selected an early post-college photo of his F150 pickup truck. He believed he had taken it without witnesses. He slid easily into the photo.
 
“Whoa, what the hell?” his younger self said as the elder he tumbled onto the gravel between him and the truck.
 
“Sorry to startle you Reid, but I need to talk to you,”
 
“Who are you?”
 
Elder Reid got to his feet and said, “I need you to keep an open mind. Can you do that?”
 
“That depends. Are you looking for money?”
 
“No. Well, yes, sort of. But not from you. To you.”
 
“What?”
 
“Look at this. Check the date.” Elder Reid took out his wallet and handed over his driver’s license.
 
“You’ve got to be kidding me. What kind of joke is this?”
 
“No joke. I’m you. I know you just opened a brokerage account with $2000 because I remember having done it. Your dad was pretty insistent about it and he was right. Keep adding to it as much as you can, by the way. Here is a list of stocks I want you to buy and when. Trust me, you’ll be a multimillionaire in short order. Then way down the line there is something called Bitcoin. It…well… never mind. I have a note about that too. You have nothing to lose. Oh, and that girl Renee… don’t go out with her. She’ll break your wallet and your heart. She likes coke too much. She says she quit but she hasn’t.”
 
“This is a little hard to believe.”
 
“You’re telling me.”
 
“So people just time travel in the future?”
 
“No, as far as I know I’m the only one who can do it.”
 
“This is completely crazy.”
 
“If I vanish into thin air in front of you, will you believe me?”
 
“It’s a start.”
 
“If I do, promise me you’ll buy those stocks. Seriously.”
 
“OK. I promise,” said young Reid.
 
“Step more to the side. I have to go through there.”
 
“Where?”
 
Elder Reid dove into the rectangle. Emerging into his living room, he immediately opened his laptop and logged onto his brokerage account.
 
“Damn.” The balances were completely unchanged from this morning. Either the younger he had ignored the list or, more likely, whatever happened on the other side of the photo was some kind of self-contained time bubble that reset to the beginning whenever stepped out of it. He flipped to a later page in the photo album. There he was with Renee. “Damn.” He couldn’t change his present by anything he did or said on the other side. It was just immersive role play signifying nothing.
 
There was still one more possible use for his talent. There didn’t seem to be a limit on what he could carry with him. All his clothes and pocket change and such had passed right through with him. He could convert his assets to silver and gold, take them with him, and live out the remainder of his life in a past year of his choosing. Falsifying an identity was easier then. He could do the necessary research in this time on the net for the birth certificate of someone who died in childhood in the right year and become that person. Until the 21^st century that method usually escaped detection. He could then make all the right investments to live comfortably. But then… he was living comfortably now… and he still would be 75 wherever he went. Here he had a life and friends. They were not the friends of his youth, but he would be even more alone in the past.
 
Reid contemplated the matter all afternoon. As evening approached he made a decision. He opened the album and again sought out the backyard photo with Bernie. He passed into it.
 
“What the hell?” shouted a voice from behind.
 
Lying on the grass, he looked back and saw a cloudy purple rectangle the shape of a photo but much larger in dimension. A much younger version of himself, camera in hand, walked through the rectangle from in back of it as though it wasn’t there.
 
“Who are you?”
 
“Sorry bud,” elder Reid said. “I took a wrong turn somewhere. Sorry.” He got up and hurried out the familiar driveway toward Maplewood Road.
 
“What the hell was that?” he heard the younger he ask.
 
“Got me,” Bernard answered. “Suddenly he was just there like he fell out of a plane or something.”
 
Reid again circled around to the detached garage and duplicated what he had done the first time. After dark he walked to the backyard where the brindle great Dane bounded to meet him.
 
“Hey Rufus. Come on.” Reid’s father had built Rufus an oversize doghouse. A dog-size flap door was in the front and a hinged plywood door accessible by a person in the back. Reid went in the back door at a crouch and sat down. Rufus came through the flap and lay down next to him. Reid spent the next hour with the dog.
 
Reid decided it was time to go. He left the doghouse and walked to where the fuzzy rectangle hung in the air. Was it his imagination or was it fading? Was there a time limit to getting back from this side? Reid reached out and felt resistance. He pushed harder. He felt a pull but instead of a swift suck-through as last time, it was a slow process. He felt surrounded as though by a pressurized liquid and saw nothing but purple. Then his upper torso was through. He pushed his hands against the coffee table and struggled to get the rest of the way out. He succeeded.
 
Reid closed the album and returned it to the closet. He wouldn’t be visiting the past again… not in person anyway. The present reality was enough. The time that mattered was in front of him, not behind. Still, he didn’t regret having spent one more hour with his dog.