Free Time
by Michael P Calligaro
"Hello Rick, haven't seen you in a long time."
Rick Reise, startled from his reverie, turned to find his accoster was an
associate. "Oh, hi Joe. Sorry for dropping out of touch, but I've been busy,
busy, busy. I put in over ninety hours last week trying to get the Moreney
account."
"But you did get it. Congratulations!"
"Thanks, it'll certainly help put food on the table." He smiled as he
fiddled with his Rolex.
"So how are Pam and the kids?"
The smile faltered, almost becoming a frown. "What? You mean I have a wife
and kids?" He sighed. "You know how it is--Moreney last week, Davidson this
one. Seems like I never even see them. Just two weeks ago I had to miss
Tessa's birthday party."
Joe nodded sympathetically. "How old is Tessa now? Three?"
Rick shook his head, "five."
"Wow, it really does fly, doesn't it? Well, you were able to afford
something big for her birthday. And college won't be a problem! That ought
to make up for a lost birthday or two."
"I'm not so sure, Joe. Sometimes I'm just not sure."
The elevator bell chimed and the doors opened.
"Fourteenth floor. It was nice talking with you Rick. Don't be a
stranger,
okay?"
"Will do, Joe."
Joe was a good fellow. They had started together, what, ten years ago? But
Joe just didn't have the drive to move ahead. He wasn't willing to make
sacrifices and work the long hours needed to bring in an excess of money for
the company. Still, he'd probably made love to his wife more than once in
the last year. He probably even remembered what she looked like.
The bell chimed again and Rick noticed it was his floor. The only person
left on the elevator was a tired looking senior VP. Rick realized that the
poor soul looked even more tired than he.
"I guess it could be worse," he mumbled.* * *
Rick had left his mind at work and paid little attention to the drive home.
He drove for over five minutes after taking the wrong exit before he even
realized he was lost. He might not have noticed even then if not for the
flat tire.
He called his driver assistance agency on the cellular phone and set the
homing beacon. The beacon was a great new feature on the high-end Lincolns.
It made the car easier to trace if stolen and thus lowered his insurance. It
also helped him remember where he had parked in a crowded lot. But most
importantly, when calling for help, it made him easy to find.
The man from the agency called out in surprise when Rick's location showed
up on his screen. "My goodness Mister Reise, what are you doing way out
there?"
"I took a wrong turn." He tried to contain his annoyance. "Just send a truck
out soon, okay?"
"Yes sir, Mister Reise, I've already dispatched a unit. But it could be
thirty minutes before it gets all the way over there."
"Thirty minutes!"
"I'm sorry sir, but we don't need to send units to that area very often and
currently have none nearby. Please be patient and sit tight until the truck
arrives."
Grumbling, Rick hung up the phone. He had not climbed the corporate ladder
by sitting tight and waiting for anybody. But he was not about to get on his
hands and knees and attempt to fix the flat either. Of course he could start
studying the Davidson files, but it had been a long day, and he just didn't
feel like working right then. No, if he wanted something productive to do,
he'd have to get out of the car and look for it.
The street was totally empty, and he hadn't seen another car drive by in the
time he was there. Some rapid transit tracks ran overhead, but there hadn't
been a train yet either. And all the stores and shops along both sides of
the street were boarded up and vacant. Sighing, Rick randomly picked a
direction and started walking.
He passed boarded up window after burned out building after graffiti covered
sign and stopped in shock in front of a place that just didn't fit in. Even
if the rest of the area had not been desolate, this cheery little shop would
have seemed strange. Translucent windows made of brightly colored glass
adorned the front of the building and flanked an ornate door with a shiny
brass knocker in the shape of an elf. The freshly painted sign above read
"Free Time: Open for Business."
At this point Rick would have entered a rat infested hot dog joint, so long
as it was open. This place was a must see. The door opened and closed
silently, but the proprietor came rushing out of the back of the store as if
Rick had been breaking things. Though he could not see one, Rick figured
there must be some sort of infrared sensor on the door.
"Ah lad, what can I be interestin' ya in today?"
The little man's accent was strange and hard to place. If Rick did not know
better, he would have sworn it was a cross between Scottish and Jamaican.
And the man himself was as strange as his accent. He stood four and a half
feet tall if he stood stood ten inches, with a long white beard running down
to his belt. The twinkle in his eye, however, belied a much younger age than
his appearance implied. He wore a poor man's muted green rags and no shoes,
but had a giant ruby ring on his left hand.
"I was surprised to see you open. Isn't this a strange place for a
store?"
"No laddie. My customers, they always manage ta find me. Lookie, you did!"
Rick was not sure how to interpret that smile. "And what do you sell to
these customers?"
"Wha,' dincha see tha sign laddie? I sells time!"
While earnest, he had to be kidding. "Don't fool with me. Nobody can sell
time."
"No, no! I'ma serious I am! Busy, busy people, they come ta me complainin'
tha' they've no time. So I gives 'em some." Rick started to object but the
man cut him off. "Like yerself, laddie. Ya looks like a busy fellow. Issat
true?"
Rick sighed, "You've got me there."
The dwarf nodded and pulled out a Personal Digital Assistant. To Rick,
something was just wrong with the universe to see this dwarf-like creature
in bare feet holding a palmtop computer, but his comment to that effect
merely drew a shrug from the dwarf. "Justa because I sells time donna mean
that I should be wastin' it on paperwork. But back ta you, friend. Ya work
hard, eh? Have's you a wife?"
"Yes, and two daughters too." He sighed again stared off into oblivion.
"An' how old be your daughters?"
Snapping out of it, he wondered briefly about the personal questions, then
pushed his worries aside. It had been a rough day and the dwarf was amusing
to talk to. "Five and seven."
The dwarf smiled and marked something on his PDA. "Ah, the spice of life
laddie! The spice of life! And you be missin' it you are. What ya need is
more free time."
He was right of course. If Rick could have a second for every time he wished
for a 28 hour day. . . . And though he was rightfully skeptical, he
wanted to believe that he could simply buy more time. "How much?"
The little man's smile reached end to end. "Well now laddie, I be the only
one around who sells time, so you can be expectin' it to be expensive. But
yes, my volume rates, they be very good."
Rick did not like what he was hearing. "How much?" He asked again.
"A hundred dollars for an hour." Ricks eyebrows shot up and the proprietor
continued hastily. "But wait laddie! Listen ye to my volume rate! I'll be
givin' ya two whole hours a day, excludin' weekends mind ye, for the low,
low price of twenty-five hundred dollars per month. Now that be a
considerable savings!"
Rick smiled ruefully. "Yes, it is a considerable savings, but only
over your already outrageous prices! Why, that's thirty grand a year!"
"Yah laddie, ya've got good math, but ya not be thinkin' straight. What
price can ya put on your kiddies' lives? What price can ya put on your
relationship wit' your wife?"
Rick still looked skeptical.
The dwarf sighed and did some figuring on the PDA. "Okay laddie, I'll be
tellin' ya what I'ma gonna do for ya." Tapping something else on the machine
caused a printer in the back to spit out a page. The dwarf grabbed the
printout in his tiny little fingers and thrust it into Rick's considerably
larger hand. "Today it is February the 29th and that be a special day, so
I'll be givin' ya a special deal. Tonight when ya go home you'll have two .
. . na, for tonight I'll be givin' ya three free hours. If'n ya don'
think it's worth it, do nothing. But, when ya see how much you like having
free time, fill this out complete-like and fax it back to me. Your plan'll
be startin' that very day."
Rick scanned down the form. It was pretty standard, but asked quite a few
personal questions. "Why do you need to know all this info about my wife and
kids?"
"Tis the nature of the product laddie. I be needin' to know who your time
will be affectin.'"
Not quite sure if he believed any of this, Rick continued to scan over the
document. But before he got to the bottom he glanced at his watch. "Holy
smokes, its been almost half an hour! I've got to get back to my car! I'll
let you know tomorrow."
The dwarf nodded as Rick rushed out. Breathing heavily on the jog back to
his car, he lamented at how out of shape he was. "If only I had the time to
. . ." He stopped dead in his tracks and looked down at the paper in his
hand. Shrugging, he shoved it into a pocket and continued on. The men were
just finishing with his car when he arrived.
"You Reeves?"
Rick fought to catch his breath. "No, Reise."
"Yeah, whatever. It's taken care of. See ya." He slid behind the wheel of
his tow truck as his partner got into the passenger seat.
"Hey wait!"
The mechanic looked annoyed. "What is it Mac?"
"I'm lost and I don't know how to get back to the expressway."
"Okay, follow us, but you're on your own from there."
"Thanks!"
The trip home was thankfully uneventful after that. Uneventful, that is,
until he got home. Rick opened the door to excited cries of "Daddy, Daddy!"
and was immediately attacked by two minor Valkyries. Though pretending to
give him hugs, they actually tried to strangle him. He returned the hugs
and, to chortles of excitement, stood up and lifted his daughters off their
feet. All the commotion brought Pam out of the kitchen.
"Rick! You're home early!" While considerably surprised, he heard an
underlying excitement in her voice as well.
He sighed as he looked at her. She must have been cooking and cleaning all
day. Her hair was pulled back, she was in old loose clothes, and she wore no
makeup.
And she was the most beautiful woman Rick had ever laid eyes on.
Then what she said sunk in. He looked over at the wall clock and it said
6:01 PM. He tried to see his own watch and was forced to put his girls down.
It reported the same time. "What? Did that guy call and put you up to
this?"
"Who are you talking about Rick? What guy?"
"That little dwarf from Free Time. I suppose he may have hypnotized me and
then reset my watch..."
Pam was confused. "No Rick, no one called. Is everything okay?"
"But I didn't leave work until it was almost eight, and I had a flat along
the way. It should be nine by now." He paused. That was three hours.
Well, they couldn't fool him. The dwarf might be able to reset a few clocks,
but he could not make the sun set late. He ran to the window. Sure enough,
the sky was still awash in reds and golds as the sun slid below the horizon.
Rick turned back to a very confused Pam, shrugged, and said, "Honey, I'm
home!"* * *
Dinner was fantastic. With the half hour commute home and his rarely leaving
work before eight, Rick seldom got to eat with his family. So tonight was
special. The food was nothing fancy--just slightly burned macaroni and
cheese. And throughout the meal the girls threw food at each other and
screeched hideously while Pam threatened them with bodily harm if they did
not behave. But it was the best meal he'd eaten in years.
After their behavior at dinner, Pam sent the girls to bed early. They whined
and complained but obeyed. Then Rick and his wife were alone.
"They usually aren't that crazy. I think they're just not used to you eating
with them." They sat on the porch looking at the stars.
"Well, we'll just have to change that then, won't we?"
She smiled and snuggled closer to him, and after a while they went inside
holding hands.
So what if they had already made love once that year?
He faxed in the document first thing in the morning.* * *
Rick's life became wonderful. He induced Davidson to sign with the company
and that made his boss very happy. So happy, in fact, that she gave
Rick a raise almost large enough to cover his Free Time expenses. But more
importantly, he became close to his wife again and got to know his children
for what seemed like the first time. He was a happy man.
Occasionally Rick wondered what would happen if he tried to call Pam from
the car on the way home. But fear always won out over curiosity. He was
afraid that if he did anything that showed the outright impossibility of the
situation, his little soap bubble of happiness would burst. So he did not
question it and even stopped marveling over the fact that he could leave
work at eight and get home at six thirty. All he knew was that it worked.
And that was all he wanted to know.
But some nights Pam was fairly tired when he got home. Being a housewife may
not pay the bills, but it was still one of the toughest jobs
around--especially with two young children to watch over. Rick also noticed
that no matter how hard his day at work had been, he was never tired during
his free time. He considered negotiating a deal to get her some time as
well, but that would have to mean telling her about it.
Pam never paid any attention to the books; she let him take care of all the
finances. So it had been easy to hide even this large of an expense,
especially with the raise he did not reveal to her. He was not sure whether
his silence on the matter was a result of fear of her thinking him insane or
guilt over his needing to buy time to be with his family. Whatever
the reason, he had not told her yet.
Indecision caused him to put it off for a while, but as the weeks progressed
she seemed to get more and more tired. So one night he finally made his
decision. They had just put the kids to bed and she was yawning.
"I can't believe I'm so tired! Have you been waking me up in the middle of
the night?"
"No honey, but we need to talk."
She took the news surprisingly well, all things considered. At first she
did think he was insane, but she too was lured by the promise of more
free time. So the next day they got a sitter and drove out to the time shop.
At least they tried.
"Damn it, I just know it was around here somewhere."
Pam looked around in disbelief. "You were walking around out
here?"
"Well, I had a flat and didn't want to just sit around in the car."
"You're lucky you weren't killed!"
He shook his head. "No, this area is deserted. I didn't see another living
soul other than the shopkeeper. Now where the hell is that place?!"
"Why didn't you call first?"
"All I've got is a fax number. He never gave me a number to call."
"Well, you could fax him a request for directions."
He sighed. "I guess I should have done that. Sorry honey. Why don't we go
home and I'll try that tomorrow?"
The next day he rummaged around in his desk and found the original document.
But while a machine on the other end accepted his fax, he never got a call
back.
He tried again the next day and once again got no reply. Then work picked up
again and he brushed the matter aside. When Pam started feeling better, he
forgot all about trying to buy her free time.
Then on October 27th the bubble not only burst; it exploded.
"Honey, why don't you help me plan Tessa's birthday party?" The girls were
in bed and Pam had just finished the dishes.
Rick looked at her sideways. "Um, sure dear, but aren't we jumping the gun a
bit? Her birthday is over three months away."
It was Pam's turn to be confused. "What are you talking about? It's next
weekend."
"What? Since when?"
"It's been November 5th for the last eight years silly!"
"Eight years? Tessa will only be six in February! I suppose now
you'll tell me that Samantha is eleven."
"Rick! What's gotten in to you? Sam is thirteen! Don't you remember her
'becoming a teenager' party?" Concern pushed aside the confusion.
"No!" he yelled. "I don't remember anything of the sort!" he yelled. "Sam is
seven going on eight and Tessa is five going on six!"
"Calm down Rick, you'll wake the girls. Are you feeling okay? Maybe you ate
something that disagreed with you?"
He exploded, "I'm perfectly fine damn it! What's wrong with you?"
Pam had always been level headed, and she took his tirade in stride. She
calmly walked over to the bookshelf and retrieved the photo album from the
bottom shelf. Then she plopped it down in front of him and flipped to a
page. "There Rick, count the candles."
The picture was one of Samantha blowing out the candles on a birthday cake.
And sure enough, there were fourteen of them (one for good luck). But Rick
was not in the picture. He madly flipped back through pictures of Tessa's
eighth, then Sam's twelfth, then Tessa's seventh birthday. He flipped back
through pictures of every party until he got to the ones he thought were
coming up. The girls got younger in each picture and everything looked
right. And he was not in a single one.
Tessa walked into the dining room sleepy eyed. "Mommy, what's wrong?" Rick
looked at her and immediately flipped to the latest pictures. They were
right. And this was how he remembered her looking. But he knew it was
all wrong.
"Nothing, baby," Pam's voice was soft and comforting. "Daddy's just a little
bit confused. Be a good girl and go to bed now, okay?"
Rick pushed the photo album aside and grabbed his financial statements. He
rifled through them until he found Visa bills for March and February of this
year. Sure enough, there was a payment of $2500 to Free Time in March and
none in February. He had only been getting free time for eight months, but
somehow he had lost years of his daughters' lives. He looked up at Pam and
noticed for the first time that she was greying on top.
"I'm going to kill that little dwarf," he muttered vehemently. * * *
The next morning Rick had an early meeting with one of the company's many
vice presidents but, being that he had not slept much the night before, he
had trouble staying awake through it. The minute it finished he rushed back
to his office and called his credit card company. The bureaucrat there did
not want to give out the address of Free Time, but he quickly pointed out
just how much he charged with them and would they like him to move on to
another company?
"Oh, and what was your name again? I'm sure your manager would love to hear
how you've been treating me."
She quickly capitulated.
Rick left work "early" (5:00) and headed out to the deserted part of town.
With the address and a map he had little trouble finding the shop this
time--though he could swear he had been through this area with Pam. No
matter. He parked, took two deep breaths, and stormed into the place.
"Well, hello there mista Reeze. What can I be doin' for ya today?" He either
did not notice Rick's anger or chose to ignore it.
"What have you done to my family, you little bastard?"
The dwarf looked at him with a sad expression. "Mista Reeze, I did nothin'
that you weren't already doin'. An' I did nothin' that wasn' in our
contract."
"Contract? What are you talking about?" Rick usually read everything he
signed all the way through, but he was so excited about the extra time that
he had neglected to read the fine print of this one.
"Right here sir, it be right here." He handed Rick the paper he had signed
and faxed back. At the bottom was a long paragraph of small print, part of
which read:
"By the law of conservation of mass, time, and energy, all time must
balance. Any free time the bearer of this contract receives will be taken
from members of his or her immediate family, or from close friends, as the
situation requires. Also, by signing this contract, the bearer recognizes
that time transfer is not one hundred percent efficient and that donors will
give more time than the recipient will receive."
Rick turned pale.
"Ya see laddie. It be all laid out in the contract."
If there was anything that Rick needed, it was not some smug businessman
telling him he was wrong. "That's a shoddy way to do business. Hiding
something that important down in the fine print! I want my family's time
back damn it!"
"I wish I could give it to ya laddie, I wish I could. But that can't be
happenin'. Ya see, it be much easier to take time from a child and give it
to an adult than to go vicey versie. I don't be thinkin' that you've got
enough time left to give it back to 'em."
"Then give them your time!"
The dwarf smiled sadly. "Look at me mon, how much time do ya think I
have ta give?"
Rick looked at the long white beard and knew the dwarf was right. "Then I
want my money ba--" Realizing what he was saying, Rick stopped mid-sentence
and his face fell.
The dwarf jumped on it though. "There ya go! It all comes down ta that,
doesn't it? It always comes down ta that with people like you. Ya just lost
years of your family's lives and you be worryin' 'bout yer money! And
ya totally fail ta see that I did nothin' to you that ya weren't already
doin' ta yourself. Workin' eighty hours a week, ya may thinks you are moving
up the ladder, an' makin' lots o' money for your family, but in reality, all
ya be doin' is stealin' time from 'em!"
Rick looked at him blankly for a moment then nodded sadly and left.* * *
"Hey Joe, how are you doing?"
Joe looked up startled then realized who it was. "Oh, hi Rick! It's good to
see you. I'm doing fine, but I'm busy, busy, busy. You know how that
is."
Rick smiled. "I sure do. I see you've been moving up quickly though!"
"Yes, I finally decided that I wanted more than I was getting and started
applying myself."
Rick nodded. "That's good, but take care you don't let it get away from
you."
"What do you mean by that?"
He opened his mouth to answer, but then the elevator bell chimed and he
noticed it was his floor. "Opps, gotta go, we'll talk more later."
Joe was startled to see that they were only up to the fourteenth floor.
"What? You get off here now?"
Smiling as he got off the elevator, Rick said over his shoulder, "Yep, and
I'm home by 5:30 every night."