Take All of It September 2019 Page 4

  The prizes associated with the show didn’t hurt either of course. There were great prizes for performing well in the preliminary rounds, but everybody wanted the 10 million dollars and one free time-travel trip to a destination of their choosing that would be bestowed upon the eventual winner.

  *****

  Harland lay on a huge bed in a hotel suite he would never have been able to afford, watching the “ABOUT FUCKING TIME: Season 3, the 1900s” introduction show that he had been filmed for, and which had just finished editing in time to be broadcast this evening.

  As the show drew to a close, the panel of experts were discussing each of the 5 participants’ chances to win this season. They seemed to think that it was a two horse race. Their favourite was a man named Dexter “Donk” McClean, a huge muscle-bound hulk who had proudly spoken of how he always bought as many extra tickets for entry on the show as he could afford. He also claimed to be able to fuck for hours on end. The young reporter who had been tasked with interviewing him looked like she could vouch for that, given how tired she looked, and the fact that she was walking funny. The second favourite was a relative rarity on the show, a woman in her mid-20s by the name of Lisa Weekes. An absolutely gorgeous full-lipped blonde, you would have called them blowjob lips but she claimed to have never been with a man. In her interview she talked of how she converted hundreds of women to lesbianism while going through university. Supposedly her male counterparts there had been pretty enthusiastic at first, but grew to hate her as she turned it into her art and passion. Lisa was confident she stood as good a chance as anybody to win.

  The panel of experts didn’t seem to have much hope for the other 3 participants, beyond perhaps some comedy filler. They were especially disappointed in Harland. His reporter’s eyes had lit up when he had to take his shirt off for the promotional videos, but she soon grew bored with his one word answers and lack of enthusiasm. The other two were a morbidly obese accountant, who only stopped chewing something when he was actually speaking and a small man with very thick glasses who’s wide-eyed wonder at this glorious situation were magnified to comic levels.

  Finally, the details of the times and women they had each been selected to travel back in time to seduce for the first round. “Donk” would be going to 1997 and a waitress, Lisa would be going to 1905 and a farmer’s wife, Fat Accountant would be going to 1983 and a volleyball player, Thick Glasses would be going to 1965 and a hippy. Harland had drawn 1959 and a bookstore assistant.

  The end-music started and images of the participants and the women who would be the subject of their advances flashed on the screen. Richard Long said “Goodnight, join us in May for another season of…”

  The audience joined in…

  “ABOUT FUCKING TIME!”

  Harland turned the screen off and read through the information he had been given about his task. The information included basic details of where he might find this (his eyes flicked to another document) Katie West and several pictures of her from when some employees of the show must have gone on their scouting missions for talent. A document stated that he would be sent back for the period of 1 week and would first be “landing” near to where Katie would be walking having just completed a shift at work. Another document reminded him of the rules of ABOUT FUCKING TIME, which stated that a panel of experts would rate his performance at seducing and fucking Katie, and viewers votes would also count towards his final score. Anything non-consensual would result in instant disqualification, as well as the full brunt of the law. The targets could be directly offered any sum of money that the contestants wanted to offer to comply with sexual advances, but such things would be taken into account when giving the scores. One final document told him where to be at 9am tomorrow so that he could step through time.

  Katie appeared to be a shy and conservative girl, even by the standards of the 1950s. Amongst the many photos of her walking around in a serious looking thick grey dress-coat of some kind was one clear front-on picture of her face with her chin tucked down into the lapels as if against a cold wind. She seemed to be looking right at the camera, staring out across the centuries. Harland stared back at the milky-white, heart-shaped face framed by tangled, slightly unkempt looking, black hair that fell in uneven natural curls. She had a cute face, he had to admit. He especially liked her little button nose, but it was her eyes that captivated him for the longest time. Although his eyes were blue and hers were light-brown, he recognised the veiled sadness there. After all, he had been looking into sad eyes every morning for years now.

  Harland fell into a troubled sleep, and shortly afterwards the blackened and burned hands started pointing their accusatory fingers and reminding him whose fault it was.

  *****

  “Bye, Mr. Fisher!” Katie called from the front door of the shop as she slipped on her grey coat.

  “Heh?” Alvin Fisher in his wheelchair rolled into view from behind a bookshelf, then put a wrinkled hand up to his long ear.

  “My shift is over, see you tomorrow!” Katie waved.

  Alvin looked disappointed but waved back. Katie thought he was probably only saddened because he would have no more opportunities to try to look up her skirt today. Did he really think she was fooled by his “holding the ladder” routine? Katie hated it… but what choice did she have? Mr. Fisher’s strings-attached-kindness was the only kindness she’d been shown in quite a while, and the money from the part-time employment at least let her pay her board to Mrs. Banner.

  Katie stepped out on to the sidewalk, and immediately tucked her head down while hunching her shoulders. She didn’t want to be seen, she just wanted to get home as quickly as possible without trouble. People around here paid lip service to chivalry and morals. Unless you were poor. Unless you came from a broken home. If you were both then you were public enemy number one.

  “Hey, whore, how about a bee jay?” some high school aged kid said to her as she walked past. She glanced at him, then quickly away. It was Sara Belmont’s little brother, Roger, leaning against the front wall of a store. “ONE CENT!” he yelled. Katie walked quicker. Roger made as if to follow then waved his hand in a dismissive gesture and went back to leaning against the wall. Nobody reprimanded him, nobody paid much attention at all really. Tears stung her eyes and she thought about the letter in her handbag. She hadn’t worked up the courage to leave it on Mr. Fisher’s desk today… maybe tomorrow. Probably tomorrow.

  A rumble from down the street in the direction Katie was walking was advance warning of a relatively late model Chevrolet car that she didn’t know the name of. The paint was immaculate, the fins shining in the sun. The young man behind the wheel, in his early 20s,so around the same age as Katie or maybe slightly older, was wearing a leather jacket with greased hair. He looked like he wasn’t sure which to be more proud of, the car, the stunning girl in the seat next to him or the sheer height of his hairstyle. A lump formed in Katie’s throat, the happiness she saw in that car seemed so foreign and distant.

  Katie looked away for a moment, then looked back. A man she hadn’t seen before was standing on the side of the road staring at the car, he was wearing one of those old fashioned bowler hats, and a suit that didn’t quite seem to fit. It was the right size and all… but it just hung on him strangely. He was carrying a briefcase in one hand, but both hands were still pressed firmly against his ears as he stared agog at the Chevy, which got considerably louder as it accelerated past him.

  Apparently startled by this perfectly normal event, the man stumbled backwards, tripping over the kerb and spinning around to land flat on his face in a spectacularly uncoordinated manner. Katie gasped, that looked nasty. Rushing over, she knelt beside the man, putting a hand on his shoulder.

  “Hey Mister, are you ok?” The man looked dazed “Did you hit your head?”

  The man turned his head towards Katie and slowly scanned up her body. Katie snatched her hand back as he did, folding her arms in front of herself protectively. His eyes reached her face and she looked
into the most enchanting shade of blue she’d ever seen. Blushing slightly, she snapped herself out of it and took in the rest of his face. He wore his hair short, maybe he’d been in the army, he was certainly built for it. Just above a strong chin sat a highly disarming grin and Katie let herself relax a bit. With a vague feeling of déjà vu, she asked “Do… do I know you from somewhere?” She knew she couldn’t though, she’d remember somebody like this.

  “I don’t think so.” Replied the man, then “That thing sure was loud!”

  Katie recalled the Chevy and agreed “I suppose it was.” An awkward pause ensued as they looked at each other for a moment then Katie continued, “So…uh, are you a concrete inspector or something? Need to stay down there for a while to make a detailed report?”

  The man looked confused for a second and the grin briefly dropped from his face as he pondered the comment, then returned in abundance when he appeared to get the joke. “As a matter of fact, yes I am! Just wait ‘til I tell the guys back at the office how hard this concrete is. Just between you and I, it’s really hard. Count yourself lucky, most people would have to pay top dollar for an advanced report like that.”

  They both laughed for a moment, then he said “Help me up, would you? I’m old before my time.” The comment seemed to tickle him for some reason, but Katie wrapped an arm around his and heaved to the best of her ability, marvelling at the strength she could feel in the muscle under the sleeve as the man got up, mostly under his own power.

  Brushing himself off, he spotted a tear in his trousers at the knee, which also appeared to be soaking up some blood.

  “Say, you don’t happen to have a bandage or something do you?” he asked.

  “No sorry,” Katie thought for a moment “but there’s a first aid kit back at the store if you think you can make it. I’ve just finished my shift, It’s only a couple minutes away.”

  “I think I’ll make it, thank you. My name’s Harland, by the way.” he extended his hand.

  “I’m Katie” she responded and extended her own hand in return. The man grasped it and raised it to his lips to kiss. Katie raised an eyebrow, it was almost as if this man, Harland, had learned about how to behave via the movies. Still, it was a nice gesture and she chose to take it in the spirit it was intended. It probably helped Harland’s case that he raised her hand so high for the kiss and looked so sincere doing it. Katie thought he must be over six feet tall, maybe by an inch or two, she had always fallen the hardest for taller men. They hadn’t fallen for, or even noticed her of course, but she admired from a distance.

  Mercifully, Roger Belmont had given up his post against the wall and they arrived back at the store, which read “Fisher and Sons Books” on the window, without incident. Katie called out, “Mr. Fisher! I’m back!”

  “Heh?” Alvin rolled out from behind a bookshelf, again putting a wrinkled hand to his ear.

  “This gentleman has scraped his knee, we just need to use the first aid kit.”

  “Meh.” Alvin waved. “Want a book?” Ever the salesman.

  Katie gestured at a seat while she rummaged around behind the counter for the battered first aid kit.

  “Uh… sure, I guess.” Harland said as he sat down. “Katie, is there anything here you’d recommend?”

  “I just finished reading this one, it’s called Hawaii. It was reasonably good.” Katie grabbed a thick book from a shelf as she returned with the first aid kit.

  Harland reached for the first aid kit, but Katie kept it out of his grasp.

  “No, you men have no idea about patching up scrapes, you’re likely to make it worse. Here, you just have a look through this book and see if you might be interested.” She handed him the weighty novel and rolled up the leg on his pants, taking particular care around the knee.

  Katie worked at it quickly and efficiently as she saw Harland’s eyes flick between the book and herself. It was a shallow graze that had simply bled a lot, no real problem to clean and bandage.

  “All done,” she said and packed up the first aid kit. “you want that book?”

  “Fantastic!” Harland replied “And yes, I’ll take the book.”

  “That’ll be sixty cents, please.”

  Harland rummaged in his wallet, apparently not 100% sure of what he was looking for, then handed over a $20 note.

  “Got anything smaller?” Katie asked.

  “Uh… No not with me, sorry.” Harland looked somewhat uncomfortable.

  “Ok.” Katie said, then called back to Alvin, “Mr. Fisher! You’re almost out of change!”

  “Easier to bank!” he called back.

  Katie shrugged and handed over almost every note and coin in the cash register.

  “Enjoy the read!” she said in a professional tone.

  “Thanks, I’m sure I will.” Harland replied then appeared to be searching for the right words as he shuffled around slightly on the spot. “Say… uh… I was wondering if you might like to join me for dinner tonight? You know… in thanks for all your help… and this book of course.”

  Katie blushed for the second time that day and a smile crept on to her lips. A tall, dark and handsome stranger wanted to take her out! She opened her mouth to squeal a “Yes” but when she did a voice whispered in her head Hey, whore, how about a bee jay? and she snapped her mouth shut as quickly as it had opened.

  Instead she said “Oh, you wouldn’t want to waste your time… it was only the right thing to do…”

  “Not at all, I insist… please?”

  But her moment of hope had passed, and she was more in control of herself. The phantom voices of Roger Belmont and all the others were right. She didn’t deserve such attention.

  “No…I… I think you better go.”

  “Oh…ok, sorry” Harland looked almost as sad as she felt, but Katie knew it must be an act. “I’ll leave… I didn’t want to make you un… uh… ok, thanks again.”

  Harland turned and walked out the door, looking back once before disappearing out of view.

  *****

  Katie was about to say goodbye to Alvin Fisher again, but for the last time. It had been another boring day at the bookstore and she was feeling all the worse after her encounter with the tall dark-haired stranger from yesterday. She read the letter in her hand, penned about a month ago, but she hadn’t been able to leave it for her boss/voyeur yet. It was short and sweet, contrasting with her life, which felt long and bitter already at only 20 years of age.

  Dear Mr. Fisher,

  Thank you for the job, I’ve really appreciated it over the years. I don’t need it anymore though, I can’t go on like this. You can keep the wages that you owe me. I don’t have many possessions, but you’re welcome to take whatever you want. Show “them” this letter when you find it.

  Yours,

  Katie

  She would leave it on his desk, he usually only went in his office once a week or so for the paperwork he so hated doing.

  The bell above the front door to the store rang and Katie hastily shoved the letter into her pocket. It was the stranger from yesterday again, bearing a bunch of flowers and a hopeful smile. He began speaking before Katie could say anything.

  “Hi, I know you told me to leave, but please hear me out. These are for you.” he passed the flowers to Katie. She reluctantly took them and couldn’t help but raise them to her nose, their sweet scent banished thoughts of her letter for the moment.

  “Katie, when I fell over like a buffoon yesterday, I think a dozen people must have walked by like nothing happened, but you helped me. You’ve got a kind heart… I just want to return the kindness. Will you let me do that?”

  “I don’t think we…”

  “Katie, please don’t make me go out into the street and sing for your ‘yes’, please… I’m a really awful singer.”

  Katie felt internal barriers go up, there was something suspicious about being pursued like this, it had never happened to her before. This was probably a trick of some kind, probably arranged by Sar
a Belmont.

  “Mister… Harland? You don’t know me!” Katie felt the tears welling up as she crushed the flowers to her chest. “You wouldn’t ask if you knew me. I’m POOR, I wash my clothes in a sink, I wash my SELF from a sink. Everybody hates me. Why are you teasing me? Why you too?”

  “Hey now, look at me.” Harland reached out and tilted her face up by the chin “Listen, to what I’m saying and believe it. I don’t care about any of that. I know what it’s like to be poor. You’re a good person, Katie. A great person. Your bank account doesn’t dictate that. And I don’t hate you. And I’m not teasing. I mean it. I want you to come to dinner with me. Please?”

  Katie released her death grip on the roses with one hand to wipe at her eyes and considered what Harland had said. She thought about the letter in her pocket and realised she didn’t really have much to lose. If this backfired horribly it might even make that scary final decision she’d been dancing around a bit easier. “Well… ok.”

  Harland let out an undignified whoop, which Katie couldn’t help but grin at.

  “That’s great! I’ve actually already booked a table at this place that looked quite nice…”

  “What place?” Katie interrupted

  “Uh, it was called ‘Deckland’s’ I think…”

  “We can’t go there.” Katie said in a tone that didn’t sound like it should be argued with.

  “Why not?” Harland asked anyway.

  “They have… standards.” Katie gestured at her somewhat shabby dress. “This is the best dress I own, they won’t even let me in the doors there. We could go get a burger from somewhere, maybe? Or I… I understand if you want to cancel.” Katie lowered her head again.

  “Nonsense. I actually have a solution to all this. I’m in town on business this week, real estate business, and I need a guide to show me around over the next few days. I can pay for your time… I’ll tell my boss it was business expenses… because it will be.” Harland took a breath and continued, “I’m not sure what the going rate is for a guide for a few days, but I think it must be at least equal to the cost of a nice dress, plus another outfit that would be comfortable for walking around in?”