• Orange Juice - Short
    2 replies, posted
Wrote a short story the past 3-4 days. Kinda obsessed with time travel. Anyways, C&C, anything that doesn't make sense or I missed, point it out! On a normal summer day, in a supermarket on the corner of Whelsh and Antique Street, one wouldn't expect to encounter anything unusual, except for maybe a good sale. The birds sang to those who weren't listening and the water ran anti-clockwise instead of clockwise, because when time gets muddled up things tended to get muddled up with it. On this fine and beautiful summer day, Joey Beaver sat on the floor, watching a man appear, peel some oranges, and then disappear only to come back a few moments later and repeat the process. Every time he appeared, it seemed a strange kind of soap bubble surrounded him, but it went with him when he vanished. Slowly, Joey stood up and walked over to the place where the man kept popping in and out of reality. He waited a bit for the man to pop back and peel another orange. When he finally did, the man, wearing dark tinted goggles, seemed only slightly surprised by Joey. "What're ya doing mistah?" The boy asked, his single, large tooth causing an adorable lisp that he would get mad at adults for mentioning. "Orange gathering. For juice." The man said, peeling the orange slowly and smelling it's scented mist. He was in his early twenties. Pale as a ghost, clean shaven and a brown bed-head hairstyle, the man looks like practically like a bum. The only thing that made him look somewhat well off were his clothes; a long, black trenchcoat, pointed leather shoes, and of course his tinted, circular safety goggles. Joey tilted his head. "What those goggles for then?" He smiled at the boy and replied with a smirk. "Safety." "From what?" the boy inquired. "Supermarket is safe." "Yea," The guy said, "but I go lots of other places too. They ain't so safe." The man seemed to finally have found the oranges he was looking for and was filling his pockets with them. Joey was still curious. He continued his questioning. "Where else you go?" The man froze up for a second. He looked at the boy through the dark tinted pieces of glass strapped to his face. He slowly removed the goggles, revealing his piercing green eyes. He grinned. "Well," he finally said,"I can show you if you like." But Joey seemed a bit hesitant. He glanced around the store, looking for anything to help him decide if he should be following this strange man who he had just met. "Well... ok." he said eventually. The stranger smiled at him. He flipped up his arm, looking at a big bulky watch on his wrist. The hands spun quickly to fit new positions and the date numbers flipped through many different combinations before stopping on 22-04-0950. The bubble surrounded them both, colors swirling along its surface. It stayed there for a while but finally burst, peeling away their surroundings with it and revealing a long rolling country hillside covered in a lush green pine forest. Joey looked around, amazed where he had just turned up. He let out a silent "Woaa..." and gave a huge grin to the man who had brought him here. In the distance, a quaint little log cabin was built right between two huge pine trees. They had grown in so close that they had pushed the walls of the cabin inwards, curving them slightly. They both strolled over to the wooden house. As they reached the door and the man reached for the handle, he paused a moment, seemingly waiting for something. Suddenly, music burst forth from the cabin's interior. Beethoven's 5th symphony filled the air. The stranger threw open the door jovially, quickly moving over to the record player in the corner of the room and shifting the cone towards the wall to lower its volume. Joey was still standing in the doorway, slightly confused by the music but curious about the interior of the house. He glanced around. It was very small. All one room; kitchen bedroom living room, and no bathroom. There was a juicer on a small counter next to a miniature fridge. After humming along to Beethoven for a moment, the man went over to the juice and started pulling the oranges out of his pocket. The boy scuttled over to the counter, his nose barely surpassing the edge. He mumbled something but the counter made it inaudible. "What?" The man said. "How'd we get here?" the boy asked, watching as he put the orange slivers in the juicer one by one. "Well," the man said with a sigh. Explaining such things to a child might be challenging, he though. "we're where we were, but before we were there..." The boy stared at him and seemed to not understand. "We're in the forest where your city, and that store, gets built. But, it hasn't been built yet. You see? We went backwards in time." Joey seemed to grasp this explanation a bit better. "So... this is what it was like before?" "Yes, a long long time before." He turned on the juicer and the orange slivers were quickly pulped and squeezed into the perfect consistency. It filled a good size glass at the spout. The kid eyed it with interest. The stranger was about to gulp it down in one go when he saw the boy's eyes staring up at him. He handed the glass to him instead. The boy took it, but looked confused. "But, this is your juice..." He said, but the man just smiled back and said, "I can always make more." He laughed. "After all, I have plenty of time." The boy seemed to understand and giggled. He took a big drink from the tall glass of orange juice and hummed in enjoyment at the sweet pulpy mix, continuing his interrogation of this strange man. "How'd you learn to make orange juice so good?" He said as he licked the excess juice from his lips. "Hmm. Well, I always liked it, ever since I was a kid." He started cleaning out the juicer in the tiny sink on one of the warped walls. "It was the only thing we really had to drink in the house. My dad always made freshly squeezed for me." Joey questioned further. "Where is your dad?" "He's not here anymore." He paused. The joy ran from his face for a moment or two. "I go to see him sometimes, when I feel like it. He's usually real busy though. Doesn't have much time for family." The warm water felt good on his hands, and its steam on his face. "What about your mom?" He didn't seem to be running low of questions. "I never really knew her. Dad never talked about her, and I don't remember her at all. That's fine though. My dad was always good company." But the boy seemed confused again. "But, you said he's busy lots." The stranger was surprised by the boy's sudden scrutiny. "Yes, he is. But when I do see him, I always enjoy our visits." He seemed a little more composed around the subject now. He dried his hands quickly and sat himself down on the counter. "Is this his house?" The boy murmured, sitting on the floor. "Did he live here?" "No, this is my house. I built it" he replied, with a certain pride. The youngster did seem impressed by this fact and glanced around to once again examine the cabin. It was quite well built and maintained, except for the two warped walls on either end. Joey looked at the strange man for a long while who stared back at him with his piercing green eyes. Another question was finally posed; "Where'd you get that watch?" He whispered hesitantly. The stranger had been anticipating this question. He waited a while before answering, examining the watch. "My father made it for me..." he paused and tried to keep his collectedness, "...before he died." Joey wrinkled his brow in puzzlement, but then seemed to comprehend. "You use it to go and see him?" he said, still softly. The stranger was astonished by the boy's easy grasp of such a complex phenomenon. This boy is a clever one, he thought. He gave a nodding reply to the kid's question. "He was a scientist," he said, "and this what he'd been working on his entire life." He showed the boy the watch more closely. It was a thick metal disk, airbrushed in a dark brown color palette to match the custom carved wooden trim around the glass front. Three hands and three date indicators were displayed on the front. The man ran his fingers along its trim. It was warn from the countless times he had done this. "A lot of things in this cabin are my father's..." he continued. "Like the music?" Joey interrupted. "Yes, like the music. He liked it very much. He said it reminded him of when he was a kid. Not much older than you, I would guess." He smirked. "I like this music." The boy replied. He was still not satisfied with that, though. "What's your name mistah?" But just then, there was a knock at the door. They were both startled by the noise, but the stranger more so. "That can only be one person..." He whispered under his breath, and went to the door quickly. The boy could not see who had knocked. The man poked his head outside. A few words were exchanged, but the boy couldn't hear what they were. The stranger soon stuck his head back in. He looked pale, a mix or petrification and amazement covered it. He stared at the boy before him. He seemed to look at him completely differently than before. The youngster picked himself up off the floor. "Was that your dad?" he asked. "No." Said the man. "It was no-one..." He shook off the haze that clouded his mind. The boy noticed that he was holding something in his palm. It was an orange. He quickly put it in his pocket. "Hey, kid. What is your name anyways?" He asked it like he knew the answer, which he did. "I'm Joey, but everyone calls be Joe." He gave a great big smile. "I see." He seemed to reflect on this in his mind. He added: "We should probably get you home." Joey seemed reluctant to leave. After all, he still had so many more questions that he hadn't asked. But it seemed he should not overstay his welcome. He nodded to the man, who flipped up his watch once more. The bubble surrounded them, swirling with color again. When it popped, it was like he awoke from a lucid dream. They were right back were they had left. The boy waved goodbye to the stranger, but stopped when he called back to him. "Wait!" the man said, "I have something for you." He reached into his pocket and pulled out the orange he had kept. He put it in Joey's tiny hand. "Remember this." he told him. The boy smiled at the man one last time before running off into the store and down an isle. The man only stood for a moment, grabbing an orange from the store shelf, before his watch spun back to 22-04-0950. He popped up in the field again, alone this time. He ran over to the cabin, already hearing the music from inside, and knocked on the door. He gathered himself and waited. When his own head popped out of the cabin door, his reflex was to run away as fast as he could. No-one should have to speak to themselves, especially when they know what they're going to say. This was important though, so he grabbed himself by the collar and spoke quickly. "Listen to me. Don't talk, just listen. The boy in there is Joe, man. It's Dad!" His past self's face went even paler than normal. He only managed a "Wuhhh" as a response. "Trust me. And, if you want, ask him yourself." The man reached into his pocket and pulled out the orange he had grabbed. "Give this to him. You know why. Just do it." And with that, the stranger left his past self staring at the empty forest, slowly pulling his head back inside. Somewhen else, the stranger sat alone in his cabin. He removed the immaculately crafted piece of equipment strapped to his wrist. He admired its craftsmenship; its precision. He felt the cold metal and the warn wood in his hands. Then, he felt something off. It felt uneven. He turned the watch over and examined it more closely. A tiny inscription was put along the edge of the back. He had always thought it was simply a ridge along the bottom. To my only son, Roy. To you I give my life's work. I know you'll use it well, and I hope you see me soon. You are and always will be my inspiration. -Dad It's meant to be informal, not professional or anything. Mostly about the story. C&C Welcome, as I've said.
Nice ending you got there. It made me all squishy inside.
Anyone else? I understand it's long but I'd really like some critiquing.
Sorry, you need to Log In to post a reply to this thread.