Chapter 2: Meeting Mr. March

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic

Reads: 82


I made my way down the hall to the offices that I had cleaned just an hour ago. I noticed my key worked as normal, so I opened the door. I opened the door and flipped on the light, revealing a typewriter in place of the computer that was once there. Many of the modern conveniences that we’re used to were gone, replaced with exactly what you would expect to see in the nineteen thirties.

I looked at the wall and found the calendar. Sure enough, the month showed as March 1932. I left the room and went back to where I had my blackout. Instead of the pictures from before, there was a small directory pointing to various places. Pointing behind me, down the hall, the sign said “Dr. Franklin March’s Office.”

I turned, and made my way in the direction the sign pointed. I came do a small row of doors, which in current times would be where the president and vice president of the entire hospital’s office would be. I knocked on the door with March’s name next to it. Surprise, no answer. I knocked one more time, just a tad harder, to be safe. Nothing.

I tried my key in the door and it worked. I slowly crept in, flipped the light switch, and began looking around the room. It seemed like a normal office that you would see from this time frame. The desk had papers all over, a typewriter, a cup of pens, and even a box of cigars. There were a few family pictures on a table to the side, and a couple of bookshelves filled with various medical books.  The walls were white, and floor to the office was actually tiled.

After looking around the room, I noticed that there was really nothing worth looking in to. I decided it was time to leave and check out another office. I turned and was shocked to find myself standing face to face with Franklin March. I jumped back and began apologizing.

March smiled and began to speak, “No need to apologize. I’ve actually been waiting for you, Mr. Duke. Tell me, do you have any idea why you’re here?”

“No idea, sir. I just know that one second I’m looking at a picture of you, then I black out, and I’m in a different time,” I responded, still trembling.

He lit a cigar and offered me one. I obliged, of course. “You see, Mr. Duke,” he replied, “we need you here. It is your destiny to be here, standing in front of me today. It may not make sense to you now, but in time it will. There are things happening that I, nor any human man could possibly begin to describe.”

“And what exactly does this have to do with me?” I asked. “I’m just a freaking janitor, sir. I come in, clean, go home, and go to bed. My life outside of that is pretty minimal to be honest. How is bringing me back in time going to save anyone from anything?”

“Bear with me, son,” March answered, “I’m still trying to figure this out myself, to be perfectly honest with you. All I know is this, this hospital, the people in it, the entire city of Kirkland Valley is doomed without you. You see, a few weeks ago, powers that I still can’t describe to you, came into the city.”

Mr. March sat in his chair, “a man came into my office wearing a black suit and black sunglasses, holding what looked like a common briefcase. He opened the briefcase, pulled out what looked like a mini television, and set it on my desk. A face, quite unlike any face I’ve seen before appeared he instructed me that our town is built on some sort of mine that they had set up many years ago.”

At this point, Mr. March set his cigar on the ashtray and looked out the window, “Mr. Duke, he told me that if we didn’t vacate this town in sixty days, that he was going to kill everyone and burn the town to the ground.”

“Why would he go to someone at a hospital, instead of someone like the mayor?” I implored.

“Well, I tried explaining to him that I was just the head of a hospital, and had no authority,” he answered, “but he said that I am the only remaining descendent of the man who first built on this land. He said that since it was my blood that was responsible for the start of this town, that my blood is the only kind he will talk to.”

“So, where exactly do I come in,” I asked, “I mean, I’m some idiot from eighty years in the future who cleans floors. I really don’t see how I somehow fit into the equation one bit sir. And, for that matter, I’m from eighty years in the future, and the hospital is still standing. So, apparently there’s something missing from this whole equation sir.”

“This is something that neither you, nor I understand, Mr. Duke,” March replied. “But, there is one person who may be able to help us. She lives on the outskirts of town, but she’s the closest thing that our town currently has to a historian.”

“Well then, let’s go to her. I refuse to get in the middle of something like this without knowing exactly how the whole ordeal involves me sir, with all due respect.” I replied.

“Understood,” he responded, “how about you get yourself some rest for a couple of hours. I have a couple of hospital related meetings that I must make, to avoid suspicion.” Mr. March showed me to a room that he used as a bedroom for any weather related emergency that may have arisen. I laid down, my head filled with such confusion. Little did I know, the confusion was just about to begin.

Submitted: March 30, 2012

© Copyright 2022 Raymond J. All rights reserved.


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