If you haven’t yet, be sure to read “The Theory of Nicholas Wallace Part 2” first.
“Beyond your what? And I told you don’t shout for stars’ sake!”
I covered my mouth. “I’m sorry.”
“Now, what were you saying?”
“He told me never to look beyond chapter 12. And I accidentally looked at chapter 34, which was the chapter I’m allowed to see until I’m 34.” Realization hit me. “Do you think he . . .”
Keegan scratched his chin and took a deep breath.
“Keegan?” I called.
“Tell me how I can help.”
I recalled my last talk with Mr. Wall E, and he mentioned his huge mistake when he was 34. I turned to chapter 34. He was the same age when Keegan was born prematurely and his mother died. That was also the same year Mr. Wall E—or me—successfully made a time travelling machine. But instead of going back in time, he went to the future.
On the last page of chapter 34, a detailed manual and instructions of the time travelling machine he made were attached. It had so much detail that Da Vinci himself would be fascinated by the beauty of it.
I got excited.
It took us eleven months to build. The time machine was cylindrical and made of glass. The steel body frame was cold to the touch, but once it was plugged in, the inside grew warmer like an oven turned on.
“Once you arrive there, you only have an hour to stay there, and this time capsule would go back to where it came from. You only have an hour to do your thing. Or else, you’ll stay there forever. That’s the thing that your future self didn’t realize. That’s why he was stuck here, unable to make a new time capsule. So, are you ready?” Keegan asked me.
“No. Are WE ready?” I winked at him, and as soon as Keegan pushed the button, I grabbed his shirt and dragged him with me.
Time travelling wasn’t fun. Everything around us was like a gleam of melting stars. We were like a vitamin capsule swallowed by an intergalactic giant travelling down to his stomach at lightning speed.
There was a spark of bright violet light, then orange, then gold, and then everything went dark. Then we heard an explosion, and then we bumped and somersaulted thrice. Four times? I lost track. But what we knew was when the burst of light stopped, the time machine threw us up like a bag of spoiled chips out in the wet grass of the rainy park in the middle of the night.
I puked. “God. I can’t feel my legs.”
Keegan was stronger than me. He carried me to the nearest building where we found shelter from the rain. We were soaking wet.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“I’m not sure. I can’t feel my arms,” I replied.
“I think we’re back in 2006. December 15, 2006,” Keegan said. “Just a week before the accident that triggered my mum’s premature birth.”
“How sure are you?”
He pointed out to the Petrol station monitor just a few blocks away from where we were standing.
“Where are we?” Keegan asked.
I wasn’t sure where we were, but it occurred to me to check the journal’s scanned photos. It was holographic and rendered through light particles, so getting wet was not an issue. Well, technology had improved so much in 2030.
“We’re outside Mr. Wall E’s apartment. We should find a way to talk to him. I’m sure he’s working on this time machine. He’s been researching it since he was 15.”
“You were 15,” he corrected.
We waited outside of the apartment for a while, plotting how we’d approach Mr. Wall-E without scaring him or getting ourselves arrested.
“How many minutes left before we should go back?” I asked.
“Forty-seven minutes left. We need to hurry.”
Forty-seven minutes sounds long if you stare at it and wait for time to pass. But it passes quickly, like a dried leaf being burnt, if you don’t stare at it. We needed to act quickly.
Suddenly, the front gate of the apartment opened. It was Mr. Wall E. Keegan and I exchanged looks. We were not sure if we should approach him now or not. But before we could decide, Mr. Wall E already crossed the street and got in his car, going who knows where. We didn’t have a car to chase him. We only had 40 minutes or less. What if he didn’t return in the next few hours? Then we were doomed!
I was about to give chase and cross the street when Keegan pulled me back. A car almost hit me.
“Dude! What the heck?” His eyes were wide. “It took us eleven months to make a time machine! You spent your whole life figuring out how to make one, and you go and die because of a car accident because you were chasing your 34-year-old self in 2006. What the f***!”
My eyebrows furrowed. I’d never heard him swear.
“I’m sorry. We don’t have much time.”
Mr Wall E drove away, and I realized we’re doomed. “We should chase him,” I said.
“Bicycle!” Keegan pointed.
Outside the Petrol station, two bicycles were parked. Their owners were inside buying ice cream. We didn’t have a choice. Or else, we were ultimately doomed.
“We shouldn’t steal,” I said.
But Keegan was on his way, and I knew what he was thinking, so I followed him and just did exactly what he did. He hopped on, and I did the same thing.
Only a split second passed before the owners realized that we had stolen their bicycles. One of them yelled, and the other tried to chase us. By that moment, I was pretty sure that the cashier called the cops. I was also sure that the camera caught our faces. It was now or never. I had to save my wife and son. I had to. My future self came too far to fail again for the third time around. The first was when I was 34, the second when I was 58. Now that I’m 12, I won’t fail.
Mr. Wall E’s car, thank God, wasn’t that quick. The rain had stopped, and I wasn’t sure where we were. It was December, and it should be snowing, but no. Who cared? My only goal was to talk with him, warn him, and then go back to God only knew where I should be.
Mr. Wall E’s car turned, and I thought I knew where he was heading. He was going to a heavy equipment shop for his time machine. I was too dumb not realizing it.
“I think he’s heading west. He’s going to buy stuff for the time machine. Let’s meet him in the parking lot. How many minutes left before we run out of time?”
“We only have 24 minutes left,” Keegan answered.
We pedalled as quickly as we could and took the shortcut. By the time he parked, we’d be there to meet him.
We thought the same thing. Keegan and I were waiting for his car. Nineteen minutes left. He should have been there. We were running out of time. I was afraid that the cops were on their way, too. My gut was tightening.
“Where the f*** is, he,” I muttered.
“There he is.” Keegan pointed.
I sprinted toward his car and waited for him to park.
Seventeen minutes left. Damn, why did I park so slow? I hated myself.
“Hi. How can I help you, kids?” Mr. Wall E politely asked.
“We don’t have much time, Mr. Nicholas Wallace. I am Nicholas Wallace, too, and I have something very important to tell you.”
Mr. Wall E flinched, clearly unsure if he heard me calling his full name.
“Excuse me? How did you—?”
“Listen, on the 22nd of this month, your wife will give birth to him.” I pointed at Keegan. “Prematurely. Did you hear me?”
He did not answer. I knew what he was thinking. We were crazy.
“How did you know—”
“Listen to us, sir. My name is Keegan, and I am your son. Your wife, my mum, will die because of cardiac arrest. You’ll abandon me and focus on perfecting that time machine with the hopes of travelling to the past, but it fails, and you’ll travel to the future instead; and meet us, him, your 12-year-old self who was reborn because of a time warp and ask for our help to make everything right. But things got messed up.” He peeked at his watch and back to him. “We’re running out of time, and we only have 13 minutes left before the time machine shrinks and goes back to our own time. So, please, sir—Dad—bring her to the hospital now so she can be monitored. We have to go.”
I was immensely proud to hear Keegan explain everything. If my future kid would be that good at explaining things, then I couldn’t be any prouder.
“Wait, you mean—my time machine will work?” Mr Wall E asked.
“Definitely. Trust me. But your theory, our theory about time travel, is wrong. Travelling ahead of us is possible. Only if you believe. And travelling back to the past to correct our mistakes would be a fantasy to most people. Your time machine was a dream come true. But for people like them . . .” I pointed at the people inside the equipment shop “. . . correcting past mistakes is not possible. I realize that not all the time, you can go back in time to fix all your mistakes. But you can fix your present to have a better future.”
Mr. Wall E teared up a little bit. I knew because I did, too. “Spend time with your wife. That time machine will be perfected soon. Goodbye.”
Keegan and I were almost out of there when we heard the police car’s siren.
“Oh, shit,” Keegan said. “Dad, I think we need your help.”
He nodded. “Get in.”
We almost went past the police, when suddenly they stopped our car. He raised his hand at us, and every vein in my body tightened. F***.
“We only have eight minutes left. Shit shit shit.” Keegan bit his lip.
“Act normal,” Mr. Wall E told us. “Nicholas, pretend you’re asleep. Keegan, you too, go. Do everything to cover up your faces.”
“Hi. Good evening. What can I do for you?” Mr. Wall E said calmly to the officer.
“We just want to ask you if you saw these kids. They stole bicycles just a few blocks away from here. We’re thinking if you saw two kids riding bicycles heading this way . . .”
“Two kids? Yeah. I think I might have seen these kids. They were heading that way. I’m not sure, but I think you should head north.”
The officer did not answer. He might have nodded. I wasn’t sure. I was busy pretending to be asleep.
“Great. Have a safe trip.”
Mr. Wall E closed his window, and slowly, Keegan and I breathed the stuck air out of our lungs.
“Damn. We almost died there.”
“How many minutes left?”
“Dude, we have to hurry. We only have five minutes left.”
“We’re not arriving there for five to seven minutes. I have to drive a little faster, but I’m afraid the cops are behind us,” Mr. Wall E told us.
“Let’s wait until they’re out of sight.”
“Fifty-nine seconds left!” We’re almost there. The apartment is close and I’m calculating. We have to run for 15 seconds to reach the time machine’s location.
“Quick, quick, quick, quick,” I mumbled. “Mr. Wall E, remember to love your wife and stop frowning most of the time.”
He just smiled nervously.
“Forty-two seconds.”
“We’re almost there.”
Time felt like jumping.
“Fifteen seconds! Run run run!” Keegan shouted.
My short legs were such a pain. His one stride was two of mine.
Then I tripped. The pain rang in my knee as I fell. Mr. Wall E also felt it. My knee bled, and I felt nauseated. Did I tell you that I fainted when I saw blood? I thought I was going to be stuck there forever. My vision blurred, and I felt dizzy.
“Dad!” I heard Keegan call. The time machine was glowing, ready to shrink and vanish.
The last thing I saw was Mr. Wall E approaching me, running. His knee was bleeding—dude. Dude, what the heck? Man, I hate blood.
The last things I heard were the final ticks of the time machine before fainting.
I woke up at my desk. My laptop was in front of me. My desk was full of papers, and I must have fallen asleep while doing something. I stared outside, and it was night. The snow was gently falling, and the lights were dimmed to a warm glow of yellow.
I felt my knees then pulled down my trousers and saw a huge scar. Then I went back to my desk, opened my laptop, typed the password, and checked the date.
December 24, 2030
I—I made it. Did I make it? Did I—?
A sudden knock stopped me. “Honey? Keegan is here. He’s brought his boyfriend, Albert. He told me—oh!“
I hugged her tight. I made it. My wife was alive. “Thank God. Nicholas Wallace made it!”
“You made what? Wait, are you all right?” Alishia asked.
“Yes! Yes. I—I’m all right.” I teared up, and she wiped it across my face.
“Oh, honey, you can tell me anything.”
“Yes, my love. I’m going to tell you later. Where’s Keegan? He has a boyfriend?”
“Yeah, Albert. Didn’t he tell us last week?”
I remembered Albert back in 2018. The same Albert my age that I became friends with. Keegan’s stepbrother. Now Albert was the same age as Keegan now. They were both students of Astronomy at Mason University. I think the time warp I messed up also affected Albert in some mysterious ways.
“In time for Christmas. Let’s go down,” Alishia called.
I nodded. But before I completely abandoned my room, I went back to my table and booted up my laptop. I was still working on proving the theory I made when I was 12 years old, that time travelling to the future was not possible. It was possible. But I realized I should just keep it to myself. I’d messed up so much I had to hide it and prevent someone from making the same mistake.
I clicked the “x” button, and the warning prompted.
Are you sure you want to close? You haven’t saved it yet.
Save. Close Without Saving.
Close Without Saving
Then I permanently deleted it.
Now that I conclude, Nicholas Wallace’s theory should be kept a secret forever.
“You cannot go back in time to fix all your mistakes. But you can fix your present to have a better future.”