Project Backwards: Chapter Two

Sorry about the mess; I tried to fix the editing, but the more I mess with it, the worse it looks!

Chapter Two:

 

                       “Steve!  Steve!  are you okay, man?”  Steve groggily, rapidly blinked his eyes.  He                       struggled to understand exactly where he was.  Last thing he remembered, he’d been                     about to lose his head, literally, when he’d found himself transported back to                                     Napoleonic France, and met the great man himself.  At least this time he remembered                     who he was, as opposed to last time, when his memory had taken hours to return.                           He’d escaped the guillotine by saying, “Get me out of here”, which was good, but now                     he had absolutely no idea where he was.  He looked at a face from beyond the grave.                     Neil Armstrong!  The first man to walk on the Moon was bending over him, but why?                       The last he remembered, Armstrong had just passed away.  Then Steve had climbed                     into the time machine, and was transported back in time.  First, Napoleon, and now                         Neil Armstrong; unbelievable!

 

                       “Oh, hey there, Neil; what’s up?”

 

                       “Steve, you just passed out.”

 

                       “Okay; but why?”

 

                       “It was the weirdest thing; one minute we were running through pre-landing                                 protocols, the next you were off in La-La Land!”

 

                       “But where am I?”

 

                       “Oh, come on Steve, quit playing games.”

 

                       “No, really Neil, what’s going on?”

 

                       Armstrong exhaled rather loudly, and replied, “Whatever happened to you, sure                           knocked you for a loop, Steve!  Okay, remember, we’re both members of the Mercury                     8, and...”

 

                       “Wait, wait, wait; don’t you mean the Mercury 7?”

 

                       “That’s it; I’m calling an end to this,” and he grasp a handle and started to pull it.

 

                       “Hold on, there; are you sure you want to do that?  What about our space suits?”

   

                       “What?”

 

                       “Our space suits; there’s no oxygen out here, and we’ll both die!”

 

                       “No, unless the mean streets of Houston gets us!”

 

                       “What do you mean?”  Steve had visions of becoming one of the first two astronauts                   to take an un-tethered space walk, permanently!

 

                       “Oh, you’re kidding me; this is only a simulator!”

 

                       A simulator?  Then, he finished opening the door and several technicians wearing                     NASA all-white coveralls were swarming everywhere.

 

                       “He should be looked at; he’s suffered some kind of weird seizure or something; he                     doesn’t even remember who he is,” Armstrong said.

 

                       One of the technicians replied, “Well, we can’t have one of the first two astronauts                       slated to land on the Moon in a couple weeks not even remember it!”

 

                       Moon, me? he thought.  But it was Buzz Aldrin, not Steve Weaver!  Just then, he                       glanced at a framed photograph hanging on the wall of the room they were in.  There                       he was, smiling out, surrounded by familiar faces that he remembered so well.  Below                     the photo was a caption which read, “The Mercury Eight”.  What?  Somehow, history                       had been changed.  “But what about Buzz Aldrin?”

 

                       “What about him?”

 

                       “History records Buzz Aldrin landing on the Moon, not Steve Weaver!”

 

                       “Doctor!”

 

   

                       He was reading the newspaper a few days later.  He had found the paper while                           waiting to be examined yet-again by Doctor Parker.  The headline screamed, “Weaver                   has mental flame-out, replaced by Aldrin.”  As he was digesting that, the nurse said,

 

                       “The Doctor will see you now.”

 

                       He walked to the office door, opened it, and walked over to an examining table.  A                       gray-haired man wearing a smock said,

 

                       “Hello Steve; I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news.  I’ve tried everything, and nothing                       has worked.  You’re still f****d up.  I think I’m going to schedule you for a lobotomy...”

 

                       “Hold the phone, there, Dr. Slopehead; weren’t lobotomy’s proved worthless by                           now?”

 

                       “By now?”

 

                       “Yeah, by the late sixties?”

 

                       “While it’s true that the number of lobotomy’s has dwindled to almost none, you’re                       so f****d  up, that I want to try it; maybe you can still live a relatively-peaceful life, I won’t                       call it normal, exactly, but peaceful, at least.  I have this theory that through a partial-                       lobotomy, that part of your brain that has become unhinged from reality can be                                 removed.”  As he was saying this, he exhaled a nasty cloud of blue smoke, and                               stubbed out his cigarette. 

 

                       “Those will kill you!” Steve said.

 

                       “I think I’d better schedule the procedure sooner, rather than later.  Now your taking                     a harmless habit, and making it bad for you.”

 

                       

                       Steve stared at Dr. Slopehead; he was serious.  “No, I’m acting this way because I’m                   actually a time traveler from the year 2012.”

 

                       “Sure, sure, just calm down there, buddy,” and he plunged a syringe of something                     into Steve’s arm. 

 

 

                       Steve struggled to come around; his brain was extremely fuzzy.  The way his brain                     was confused reminded him of something; but what?  He thought as hard as he could,                   then he had it.  The first time jump he’d made, he’d felt this confused for hours.  Where                   was he?  He tried to sit up, but couldn’t move.  His arms and legs were strapped down                     to the table he was lying on.  Wait, not a table, a gurney.  Just then, the monstrously-

                  huge head of Dr. Parker loomed over him. 

 

                       “Just relax, and you’ll soon feel better.  Now, I’m going to put this mask over your                         face, and then you’ll drift off to sleep, and when you wake, everything will be okay.”

              

                        This must be a nightmare; yeah, that was it, he was having a nightmare!  Then a                       mask descended as if from the ceiling, and the monster-head spoke again.  

                       “I’m sorry, Steve, but this is for your own good.  I had to give you an injection of                           tranquilizers to calm you down; you were getting quite agitated.  I decided to perform                       your lobotomy immediately, to protect you from yourself.  A time machine?  That’s the                     thinking of a totally-disconnected mind!”

 

                       Panic rushed up to meet Steve.  “Don’t do this; get me out of here!” he shouted, and                   his surroundings faded to black.

 

       

 

 

 

 

     

 

    

    

 

 

    

  

Reviews

[char]

Yeah. The mess was a bit difficult to see through. But, hey, you can see through a muddied windshield if you wipe at it! This is getting a bit strange. What's going on with Steve? I need to read the rest.

[Michael Stevens]

Yeah, I don't know what happened, but I couldn't fix it, sorry about the eye strain!