Episode Seven

The detour to rescue Martha from prison was not what Sheila and Frank need to spend their time doing.

Not with Marshall's big intervention attempt coming up that night. But Sheila wasn't about to leave anyone behind. [music] Frank, about damn time.

“Jesus, Sheila, what the hell did Martha do in one night to get arrested already?”

I don't know officially. They won't let us in until tomorrow's visiting hours. But a sheriff's deputy on his smoke break told me she assaulted a police officer. Hell of a temper that one. We have to call Marshall.

[music] So we don't know what she did and you can't see her until tomorrow? I'm so sorry. It took us both too long to drive here to catch visiting hours.

I'm afraid it also means you're on your own tonight with Samantha.

No, no, you've got to make sure Martha's okay. I've got this. Yeah, I know you do. Sure I do. So now I had two women whose lives I was responsible for and I wasn't sure I could save either.

One thing at a time, right? I had to meet Samantha. I waited for my mom to settle in the bed and slipped out the back door. I couldn't risk starting the old car so I wheeled my old bicycle from the garage and peddled a mile to Whittier City Park.

The park covered four city blocks in the center of town. Helms and cottonwoods protected the swimming pool, community center, and softball diamond. This late games were over, leaving the warm silence lit only by the pool's security lighting. I settled in the wait.

With each passing minute, I was more afraid that Samantha wouldn't pier, but finally,

my decade-long memory of her didn't do nighttime Samantha justice. She wore cut-off jeans and a dark t-shirt. Her hair was disheveled from her ride and a slight sheen of perspiration on her face glow, reflecting the distant pool lights. She was the epitome of vibrant youth.

She looked as if she should live forever. You rode your bike too. And if you tell anyone, I'll strangle you. Bad for the image, huh? I'm here.

What's so important. I've thought about it for a few days now, and I haven't any idea how to say this. Oh, come on. I'm taking a big risk here. If my stepdad catches me, I'll be grounded until graduation.

“That might be the best thing that could happen.”

What are you talking about? Please, Sammy. You can't go to Donnie's Wednesday night. If you do, something terrible will happen. Oh, you're psychic now, you know the future.

Don't ask me how I know I just know. This is ridiculous. I'm going home. There'll be a race. Out of the dunes.

Phil Barrett and Donnie with two of his dad's muscle cars, and they'll kill you, Sammy. Ow. What is this? Some nerd computer game challenge or something, scare the shit out of someone you ask whole?

You fucking ask whole. I didn't mean to make you cry, but Donnie and Phil have been talking about the cars, right? Oh, well, apparently you already know the answer to that question. Are you just some kind of creepy warrior, too?

“Have you been stalking me, following me and Donnie around?”

I know because, because what the hell, you already think I'm a fucking asshole. I know because 10 years from now, we figure out time travel. I've come from the future to try and keep you and Donnie from getting killed. Oh, my, it's all. Sammy, please, I haven't bothered you since the night we went out.

If I was just trying to get your attention, Don't you think I'd come up with something more believable? Please, Don't go. Marshall, I- I'm afraid, Sammy.

I'm scared to death. It's no secret I care for you. I've been through this once already. I don't think I can stand losing you again. You don't have to like me or talk to me or anything, please.

I stood there watching her cry. These weren't angry tears. You couldn't stand to see her this way. I carefully put an arm around her shoulders, uncertain whether I'd scare her or make her angry again.

But she buried her face in my chest, clinging to me with all her strength while she sobbed.

Standing there and darkness with her and his arms, he hoped the world beyond would never intrude again. Finally, she put both hands on my chest and pushed away. Thank you Marshall. So you believe me?

No, I don't. But you're not completely sure you're thinking maybe. She put a finger to my lips and stared into my eyes.

“Look, I believe you'd genuinely care for me.”

All the rest of it. I guess I believe that for some reason you believe this.

At first, I was just mad because it seems like I'm always angry.

Everybody's pushing me one way or another to make some kind of decision. What college, the whole sex thing, don't talk to that guy. Let's try this drug or that drug. She took both my hands and hers. Being with you at the dunes was so easy.

And now you're willing to make yourself look like a loon just because you're worried about me. A loon? Yep. So you won't go to Donnie's?

Don't push your luck. Why do you hang out with that guy? Why the party and why the drugs? Marshall. When they do the autopsies, they find traces of alcohol, grass, and cocaine.

I've never touched cocaine.

You will on Wednesday.

“So you don't ever drink or smoke pot or take pills?”

I've had a few beers, smoked a couple of times. Frankly, I don't see the attraction. Marshall, did you ever wonder why my family moved out of the house on 16th plain back when we were kids? She sounded different, smaller, like I was talking to the little girl I knew in the third

grade. The divorce, right? It happened because of me. He was touching me, and she caught us, and nothing has been the same sense. My younger self didn't know what to do or say, so the older me took over and hugged her

and took her hand. Oh, Sammy, I'm so sorry.

I was, so sorry I hadn't gone back farther and stopped at all.

Have you seen anyone Sammy? A doctor or psychiatrist? No. My mom couldn't stand it if anyone knew. She's been through so much already.

You have to see someone. This wasn't your fault. A therapist won't tell anyone what happened. They can't. It's confidential.

We can find someone Sammy. You don't have to feel this way your whole life. Well, according to you, that won't be an issue.

“Maybe a car wreck's the best thing that could happen.”

Don't say that. I'm here because we can change it. One minute, Marshall. I think you're the most understanding guy in the world. And then the next, I think you're from some other planet.

I said before, why would I invent something that makes me seem so so geeky? Well, you've got me there, kid. Like I said, maybe you really believe what you're saying. And that makes me worry about you. Have you seen a psychiatrist?

Maybe we can go together. Actually, I talk with one all the time. Okay, so if you're from the future, tell me something that happens tomorrow. I can't. My future self is seen all this through 10 years of memory.

I can't remember what happened on a given day a decade ago. Oh well. My teenage self desperately wanted to leave things there. But my adult self wouldn't let him, I had to try one more time. Please Samantha, don't go to Donnie's Wednesday.

Ensuring off the wall went back up, a little girl left, a wary cynic return. Don't try to control my life. Several of us are going there to study for finals. We already made the plans. Look, if I see something dangerous, I'll leave.

Be credit for having some common sense. She kissed my cheek, then picked up her bike. Goodnight, Marshall. Thank you for caring. I Samantha faded into the darkness.

Sheila stepped from the shadows and put an arm around my shoulders. You drove back. How long have you been here? Long enough. It wasn't a half of me who gets to fly away who decided to tell her.

The one who asked to stay here did.

He had no choice.

“Eight hours later, Sheila drove back into Silver City.”

As they arranged, she met Frank at the jail parking lot.

Suspecting, she might need the benefit of all her assets. She was not the tone-down version of herself. She presented it with your high school. She wore a tight jeans and a klingy shirt with a scooped neckline. Jeez.

I'm surprised they let you walk around loose when you were 19. Forget it, Frank. Now, let's go see Marta. I already tried. And the guy on the door said visiting hours don't start until afternoon.

Yeah, we'll see about that. Hi, we're here for my poor friend, too. Isn't that the right to any old anybody? Ma'am. See, Frank?

Help. Stay your business. She's us, a woman. No visitors for two more hours. Please, please, it's okay.

Wait a minute, Sheila. Ma'am, please pardon my sister. She doesn't understand about regulations. She's a freshman at Arizona State, and, you know, she doesn't have a clue what it's like for those of us

who have to work for a living and follow the rules. Oh, yeah? Say, you didn't grow up around North Phoenix. Did you? The sunny slope area?

You look so familiar. [LAUGHS] Oh, yeah. [LAUGHS] I'm lovable.

OK. Maybe at lesson, Sheila's belief in other women just a touch.

“But the important thing was that Frank's patty”

did get them through the gate. So, did your new friend tell you a gut Marta front in here? Yes, she did. And some other, more fun stuff.

Oh, I beg you, please, keep it to yourself. She's saying, I've got skills, which you do know, but keep ignoring. Eventually, Sheila gleaned the bare bones of the story. Marta was headed to the E.R. in a friend's car

when she got pulled over for speeding. She jumped out and demanded that the officer taser. He refused and attempted to calm her when she kicked him. So he totally tasted it, right? Totally.

Ganna admit it. She's good. Marta, it's so, so, so, so good to see you. Wait, do you know who we are?

“You, Sheila, and these, I should know, shouldn't I?”

He doesn't even matter. Are you okay? Well, I don't think I'm going crazy anymore. You and him too were in my dream, and I had to get away. No, she had to get away because she thought I'd suffer

some kind of injury if she stayed. And now, I'm in jail. I lose my security clearance, my job. Don't stress it.

You're one of the first time travelers.

You make history with every trip. Elven says nothing can change that. I'm surprised to say this, but Frank is right. Somehow, whatever happened here will be in consequential to your future.

Things will work out. Cindy Osborne was serving as a raiding judge for Grand County District Court that week. She enjoyed a straight routine. Up at 5am and off to the gym where she took a yoga class. Then a shower, coffee with a handful of friends, and on to the courthouse.

This morning, though, a buzzing alarm clock startled her from an erotic dream starring Joaquin. Hi, you're getting struck there. She briefly considered rousing a husband out to the task, but he wasn't at.

Morning sex was not his forte. She arose and entered the walk-in closet, laundry room, where a pile of dirty clothes blocked her path. She shoved them into the washer and proceeded to scrub her face. Apply a minimum of makeup, pee, package in bag,

and pull on her shorts and exercise bra. The washer went to its spin cycle. Cindy has smiled at the memory of youthful experimentation with an unbalanced load. When she turned to walk away,

flickering images of her dreaming counter

with Joaquin gave her a second thought.

She put her hand on the washer and felt the vibrating buzz of the spin cycle. She bit her lower lip.

She boosted herself on the top of the washer

where she sat with one corner of the jittering machine strategically located. The gratification came immediately. She stifled a small screen and hung on until the rinse cycle. So the judge skipped yoga, had to grab Java to go,

and was still late to the courthouse. Rather than driving around back to her usual parking spot, she stopped in a no parking zone. Ran inside, handed her keys to a court clerk and asked him to move the car.

The clerk returned holding a parking ticket. He had told the ticketing officer that the judges card only been there five minutes. The officer had already hit the send button and the computer had it.

He said the judge should know better and he couldn't unright the ticket. She studied the offending police officer signature. Owen Kirkpatrick. Her mood became certainly as arrangements began.

She hammered the first two defendants

who came before her without a hint of sympathy. Mata's case was fixed, a salt of a police officer. Mata stood and hung her head in a show of contrition. Sendia scanned the police report and saw the arresting officer's name.

Officer Kirkpatrick. This is going to be a real pleasure. I knew it would work out. You're back. You're going to grab that cops' deets.

Sheila, you're still here. I don't know what just happened. Sounded to me like she dropped no charges. But... I find it's best not to question the rare happy endings.

You don't know how much I hate not knowing what's going on.

“In a future you're supposed to be my friend, right?”

Yes. I don't really have friends. These women I came down here with a person my age is supposed to have friends. It's part of my cover.

You're cover? And I did time we meet again. You will have a Golden Decent, so will I? I'm surprised you remembered this song. Well, I remember this.

The other Mata and I board work for British intelligence. I don't blow things up or anything. A spy? They have murder that is so freaking cool. When you get back to where you came from,

there's something you need to tell her. It me about. She found somebody while sharing my memory that really caught her attention. Okay.

Tell her we know the man in the picture. We see him at the Sandia Lab. What man? I know it's important. I just can't remember who.

Help her, remember. Yeah, I will. Hey, thank you. Take care of yourself, okay? See you in the decade or so. I'll drop you at your car, Frank.

We've got to get back to Whittier. Did Mata tell you?

She'd never even pleased her bet.

Armada is long gone. Obviously, that part of the mission is dead. Dr. Rose warned me this might happen. Did you guys might pull something like this? What? Like what?

Just just going through the motions.

“So saving Mata's life is just going through the motions.”

Yeah, well, I completed my actual mission. And I'm going to keep that date with the cop. Just to make sure everything's copicetic before I bail. Oh, yeah. Yeah. And sticking around to get laid makes you a real hero, Frank.

I know. Sheila's due, the whole trip back to Whittier. Her mood didn't improve as she thought about her chances of Samantha and Donnie. Two kids committed to bad choices.

Frank rejoined them in Whittier the day before the party. You know, about this whole racecar thing. I've been thinking. You do that? Have you tried talking with Donnie?

Donnie doesn't talk. He grunts. Wait. That's Frank's native tongue. Alright, Sheila, you can quit it with the insults. No, I'm being serious.

“I think you might be the perfect person for this job.”

One cool high school kid to another, right? Yeah, I mean, who wants to listen to a dork? Ah, not Samantha. Great. I'll help you approach him. Maybe we can even make Marshall seem a little less crazy.

I mean, what do we have to lose? Wait. Don't answer that. Now we're later, Sheila and Frank parked just off the road near a traffic light along Donnie's

Sheila wore her drop dead gorgeous get up from court.

Here he comes.

“As Donnie's pickup appeared, Frank drove to the light which was green and stopped.”

Donnie was stuck behind them and blasted his horn. Sheila walked to his passenger side door and motion for him to roll the window down. Hi Donnie, we need to go somewhere we can chat. A park maybe? Hmm.

Hey, up here, my face is up here. Now read my lips. We need to drive away now. The light is green. I'll lock the door so I can get in.

Do you know who I am? You're the girl that with its school. Marshall's cousin. I'm not Marshall's cousin. What is it with you guys? Why the sudden interest in Neon Samantha?

And who are you? Get the hell out of it. Frank. Hey. We asked Marshall to talk to Samantha.

“Were the ones who told Marshall what will happen to you in Samantha if you throw your”

party tomorrow night? Where do you get off? You have less than 24 hours. You caught a break though. You've become the subject of a physics experiment.

Whether people from the future can change the past. It's what Marshall ends up doing in the future with us. That door? Forget Marshall. You'd better think about yourself.

Here's what you got planned.

Your parents are out of town. You and your buddy Phil have asked Samantha and Phil's girlfriend over. Along with a few others. You told them you have booze and grass. You haven't told them you've scored some coke.

Hey, your plan is to get the girls wasted and have a party. I can relate to that.

“But you and Phil have been arguing about who's the best driver.”

That gets mixed up with the booze and coke. And you and Samantha are toast. You know everything I've said is true. Never die, Skippy. It's up to you.

Frank, that was good. The next day, the day Samantha Kennedy and Donnie Court were perhaps faded to die was torture. Both Samantha and Donnie ignored me at school. Since the sun was setting, Frank, Sheila and I were parked the block away from Donnie's house.

Several other kids had already arrived at Donnie's. We've done everything we can, Marshall. All we can do now is wait. And if she shows up and gets into the Corvette? We call the cops and send them to the dunes.

Or if the cops don't get there in time. This is a small town, the police might not take it seriously.

There was never any guarantee we could change anything.

I bet she doesn't even show up. Nope, here she comes. Samantha went inside and we settled in outside to wait. Two hours later, Donnie's garage door opened in a red mid-60s Pontiac GTO rumbleed forward. Followed by a white 1979 Corvette convertible.

Phil drove the GTO, his girlfriend beside him. Donnie was alone in the Corvette. He yelled something back at the garage. Samantha came out reluctantly it seemed to me. I rolled down my windows so I could hear them. Donnie ordered her to get in the car.

When she didn't, he attempted one of those cops show leaps over the closed door. He landed awkwardly and scraped his head in the driveway. When he got up, he was bleeding and laughing. Donnie, you can't drive. Bullshit.

You just watch me. This fucker will hit 140. I'm done it before. You go to the dunes like this and you'll get arrested. I know what's wrong with you.

You believe future boys shit and those two other nut jobs. Okay, but I'm driving. I won't let you drive when you're like this. The moment she got into the Corvette, I was out of Sheila's car and on a dead run. Donnie was laughing and trying to push Samantha into the passenger seat when I tackled him.

And what the fuck? Samantha, you can't please don't. Marshall, go away. It's happening just like I said. No, it's not.

I didn't take drugs and fine. I'll make sure nobody gets hurt. Then Donnie tackled me and drove me into the driveway. He tried to hit me again, but I jerked my head away and he hit the asphalt. I think he broke his hand.

Get off the mess hole.

Hey, nobody's going anywhere.

“We called the police if either of these car's leads a driveway.”

They'll be all over your asses. You want to take a sobriety test tonight, Donnie? Huh? How about you, Phil? Frank, get the keys to both cars.

Samantha, you should go home. Fuck you. Fuck all of you. Go away and leave us alone. Please, Sammy, I only want Marshall.

Listen carefully. Don't bother me.

Not ever. I will never speak to you again.

We set outside Donnie's house all night.

“Samantha's car was still there when the sun came up.”

And on Thursday, May 10th, 2035, Samantha and Donnie were alive. So, what now? Now we can go. Some of us can. Hey, Marshall. I'm so sorry, high school you

is luck to cope with us, but you saved her. Yeah, at least we did that. The mission profile set are returned for 70 AM Thursday morning. The departure could at 7.18. Elvin hit all the markers precisely in the three of us arrived in the projection platform at the same time.

I was relieved that my memory now included watching Samantha, my heart aching all the while, walk across the stage of graduation. Then they only in Marta were rushing toward me.

Marta got their first and hugged me for all she was worth.

I'm here for you, Marshall. I'm so sorry. Oh no, it didn't work. Understanding came with another memory, rushing home from college. A funeral.

We had bought Samantha two months. The coroner called her drug overdose and accident. Donnie had confronted me at the cemetery as he stood over her grave. You did this to her. All that crazy shit you scared her with.

“I loved her. I did everything I could to save her and what did you do?”

Get up the pressure, right? The drugs, the sex. For once in your life accepts some responsibility. I was ready for a fight. He turned him, walked away.

That evening and for many evenings to follow, Donnie got drunk. High, he could have used Samantha's death as a pivot to a constructive life. He could have been shocked into maturity, responsibility. Instead, he died at the wheel of the white Corvette, out by the dunes, racing against a red Pontiac GTO.

Naomi sent me back. I could stop her. I can fix this. No, Marshall. We can't change it. We have to move on. Please. [Music] Marshall, come in. We here.

Nothing we could say comforted him. They were Marshall. You couldn't have done anything more. But there was something I could do to end it all. Taking time is a production of Voyage Media. The series is produced by Navel and Dan Bettimore.

Executive produced by Mike Murphy, Nancy Murphy. Based on Mike's novel, taking time, a tale of physics, lust and greed, available on Amazon, a link is in the show notes. Written by Mike Murphy and Melanie Hooks, story produced by Joshua Malkin, directed by Dan Bettimore, starring Ray Carcila as Marshall,

Rochelle Simpson as Sheila, Rachel Pape as Marta, Cheryl Tong as Naomi, and Sydney Shiotani as Gretchen. Additional cast credits available in the show notes. Edited to sound design and mixed by Joel Lipman, original music by Carlos Gonzalez. If you're enjoying the show, please leave us a five star review on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, or anywhere you're listening, and subscribe now for future episodes.

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