The Reset Button

What led to this moment? I don’t know. I can barely comprehend the turn of events that must have happened in my absence. One moment my life existed as it always had, then the next I was living another…

The last thing I remember I was testing the latest iteration of the device. From all my calculations it seemed to be functioning flawlessly. I had tested earlier models using inanimate objects. Eventually, I became confident enough to try some test animals. What made me brave enough, or was it foolish enough, to use it myself?

It was extremely complex to implement but the idea was familiar to anyone with a curiosity about the ever forward flow of time. By leveraging a loophole I’d discovered, I found I could send anything, or anyone, back into the past. But how far? I wasn’t exactly sure but by my calculations it had to be several years. The loophole would last only for a short time from my perspective. And then the subject would return as if nothing out of the ordinary occurred. But with some careful measurements it was clear that the subject was different. Just how different I wouldn’t really know. That is until I personally tried it.

It was an ordinary afternoon just like any other. My wife and son were out running an errand. The air was unseasonably cool but dry and calm.

I had made the final modifications but no one was around to share in my excitement. I thought about leaving a note but knew I would not be gone long.

As I activated the device, all my senses were overloaded with an incredible intensity. Once the sensation eased up, I began to look around.

It was definitely the past, but how far back? I recalled the old equipment and the layout of my lab, but it hadn’t been that way in many years. I knew I didn’t have much time so I pulled a pocket knife and made a simple etching in my workbench to mark that I had been there. I stepped out the back door to get a sense of the season or year.

Suddenly my senses flooded once more. I couldn’t have been gone for more than a minute according to the wall clock. I quickly shuffled the clutter from my workbench to uncover the place I’d marked. Despite it being my own design, I couldn’t believe that it really worked! The possibilities were only beginning to form in my mind.

As I stopped to think, I could immediately sense something was different. At first it was a misplaced object. Had I left the door open? Was it the color in the light of the room? Then I noticed the air. More humid perhaps? I didn’t think too long about it. I needed to begin the next phase of my work.

But first I had to see if my wife had returned. I ran up the stairs to find the house eerily quiet. I looked around to see if anyone was there. I noticed my son’s toys must have been put away early. Then I saw the family room. The photos on the wall were from the same trips but of only the two of us. Where was my son? I immediately ran to his bedroom. It was obviously not the room of child but instead a guest room. What had I done!? Scanning the rest of the house confirmed no child lived here.

I was confused. Nothing remarkable seemed to happen while I was away. I had barely had a chance to leave my lab, but I must have made a mistake somewhere.

I had to act fast. I had to think. How could I fix this? Unfortunately, I didn’t even know how it broke in the first place. Had I touched something significant in the past? Had I returned on a parallel timeline?

In a panic, I went back downstairs to try to “fix” things. Powering up the device. The intensity. Again in the old lab. This time I was more prepared and aware. The etching was not there yet, so it must be a earlier than before. This is good! I focused on not changing anything but just looked around for clues.

I waited, hoping I would return and instantly have undone the damage. It felt like a few minutes now. Why am I not returning?

Hours pass. Just as before this house is too quiet, but this time I know I am here before my son is actually born. The realization is sinking in: have I stumbled upon a timeline where I never create the device? What does this mean if I am unable to return?

It was then I heard my wife’s footsteps above. She expects a younger me from several years ago. Can I even do this? She calls down the stairs, “Have you eaten? I picked up some food if you’re hungry…” I was starving.

As I entered the kitchen, she gave me a funny look. “You look… tired. Trouble with your project?” My project? I don’t recall what that even would have been. “Yeah, well, you know. If it isn’t one thing, it’s two others.” How long can I keep up this act? “Well, when you’re done eating, you should probably get cleaned up. We’ve got those tickets for the show tonight.”

At first I recoiled as my understanding set in. Was this now my reality? Am I reliving my own life over again in painstaking detail? In a matter of just a few minutes I had managed to unravel my future. And now I must try to retrace every step I took over the course of several years? I needed to be extremely cautious to not change anything as the ripple effects of every change were completely unpredictable.

Days and weeks pass. I had forgotten what it was like when we were just a married couple. Just the two of us… and the dog. Things like travel and date nights were far easier, but it is entirely too quiet. I miss my son so much. I miss the life he brought to this home. I fear if I do things differently, I will never see him again.

It has been so long now. This second time through life, I am noticeably more tired. Perhaps it is that I have aged where others have not. Maybe it is simply the additional cognitive load that causes me to process every experience as if it is my first time, despite remembering each step. I am imprisoned in a continual state of déjà vu. I have resigned to the truth that there is no returning to the timeline I took for granted.

The pregnancy has gone well. For the most part it had been how I remembered. But that was so many years ago now that the details have escaped me. I have waited so long to have our son back, and now the day has finally arrived. Our family will be reunited!

The moment has arrived where I get to hold him again. It is chaos in the delivery room, but it is a good chaos. There is a sudden shift in my déjà vu. That cry is different. His hair, his face. This is not the son I once knew.

My heart is pulled in two directions at once. This precious child here now is my own. He is healthy and beautiful and amazing. But somewhere else, in some parallel timeline exists the son that I knew and loved so dearly. In a single instant, the full dichotomy of my existence is made known to me. Pure joy at this new life, and simultaneously, utter sadness knowing that my first born exists in a world that is inaccessible to me.

The bedroom was a now young boy’s room, but it was not as it was. The photos in the family room showed us laughing and traveling again but now with my other son.

My second son is different but there are definite similarities. Different color hair and eyes. A little more handsome perhaps. Maybe a little less patient. We had always talked about having other children but this was beyond my imagination. Sometimes if I am tired though, or catch a glimpse of him in my peripheral vision, I swear it could be him. Then as my eyes adjust, I return to reality.

The years have been long, as if I’m living each one twice. Each joy I experience is true joy for I am experiencing it in my new reality. But every moment is accompanied by an echo of my old life. As my son in the present reaches and surpasses the memories of my first, I simultaneously mourn the future I will never get to experience with my first born.

After all these years, I wonder what would have been. Does he still exist somehow but in a parallel world? What would he have been like at this age? Would he enjoy these activities as my other son does? I sit alone in my thoughts as the rest of the world exists as if this is the way it has always been.

I have two sons now but not at the same time. I can’t have them both, yet I remember them both. My first born was an extension of me in a way I never imagined. He made me a father. Now there is no clear path back to him. And if I somehow found a way, it would certainly mean that my other son wouldn’t be there. That heartache would be the mirror image of this.

I am acutely aware now of how often people ask how many children I have. My children live in parallel timelines. Never in this life will they meet. Never will there exist a family photo with all of us together.

Many years ago now, I vowed never to rebuild the device. I could not bear to live through another reset. I destroyed all my research and rendered the loophole itself impossible to resurrect. It was a power that no mortal should possess. Not only would others now not be tempted by it, but even I could not bring it back in a moment of poor judgement.