Ariel’s Time Machine
“Go ahead and open it, honey,” Ariel’s father suggested with a smile.
“But Mom isn’t home yet,” Ariel replied. “I can wait.”
Ariel always thought of her birthday as the greatest day of the year. Although she was shy, she enjoyed the attention from friends and family on her birthday. Her father, more than anyone, always focused all of his attention on her. He clearly enjoyed the challenge of complying with all of her wishes on her one special day.
This year, however, Ariel knew it would be different. Her father lost his job a few months ago and she felt her family struggling to make ends meet ever since. They had stopped going to the movies on Sundays and opting, instead, for screencasts at home. Dinners were exclusively in their kitchen, and her mother even mentioned starting a garden in the backyard. “I didn’t ever realize how expensive lettuce was,” her mother had declared.
“This is my special present to you,” Ariel’s father continued prodding. “You can tell your mother about it when she comes home.”
Ariel picked up the small box, which was wrapped in silver paper. Every crease and corner was wrapped to perfection. When he was young, Ariel knew quite well, her father had taken a class on wrapping gifts, and he prided himself on his ability. She was overcome by curiosity and bit her lower lip in a final attempt to subdue it.
“Dad, you didn’t need to get me anything. I know times are tough right now,” Ariel murmured without looking up.
Her father frowned and nodded. He walked over to the kitchen window and exhaled loudly. Ariel looked up expectantly. She had heard her father sigh many times in her life, and it always preceded a statement of grave importance. She braced herself.
“Mihita,” he began. He always reverted to the Spanish phrase for “my little girl” when he wanted to bring her into a verbal embrace. “Life will go up and down, no matter what you do. You will sometimes have fewer things, sometimes more things, but through it all you always have your family.” He placed his large hand on her shoulder and smiled. “My pleasure on this day comes from seeing you open this present.” He quickly added in a child-like dramatic tone, “Our journey has been short, but your journey will be long.” He winked at her.
Hearing his final comment, Ariel’s eyes widened in realization. She lifted the gift and slowly peeled the paper back as if in a trance. She revealed a dark wooden box with the words “Time Machine” embossed in glistening silver letters on the top. Below the words was a round green button. Brass circular dials sparkled on the front of the box, pre-set to all zeros. She looked up at her father in astonishment.
“Papá,” she began. “This is too much. Too much.” Her voice trailed off. Her excitement was anchored heavily by a preoccupation with the cost of the gift. They had to return it. There was no alternative, although she hoped desperately that there was.
“There is no discussion. It is done!” her father said triumphantly, yet with a tone of exasperation. “We’ve talked about this very much, Ariel. Aren’t you excited? Isn’t this what you wanted?”
Ariel noted her father’s worried face and resolved to accept the gift. She allowed a brief smile and her excitement suddenly erupted in a giggle of excitement. “Oh, Papá! Yes, I am excited!” She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him on the cheek.
The Time Machine had been released in stores about two years ago. It was an extremely costly item that was unreachable to most, not only economically but within the stores. It was locked in a solid, transparent display case that allowed fleeting glances from wishful onlookers. Ariel and her father had made a special trip to Garver’s Department Store just to see the display. The small box had fueled their conversations ever since. Together, they imagined adventures far beyond what they had read in storybooks. Ariel had even developed a list of when in time she would travel. She never thought she would actually get to use the list, but enjoyed the creative dreaming with her father.
“You are right,” her father conceded. “It cost a lot of money. I did not have enough to buy the model that went backward and forward in time. This one only goes backward.”
“But that’s perfect,” Ariel stated absently as she slowly adjusted the time dial on the device. “All of our discussions have always been about going to the past. The earliest date on my list isn’t even in this century.”
“You know where you’ll go then?” her father asked with false curiosity. He smirked at his own joke.
“Ha! Of course, Papá.” she retorted. “I’ve known for months now.” She clicked the final dial and sat back in her chair with a sigh.
“Go, then!” He encouraged her. “Go before your mother gets back from work. We’ll tell her all about it.”
Ariel felt herself hesitating. She was a planner. She always double-checked her lists, packed her bags well before her trips began, and always kept a three-month calendar on her desk. She had just unwrapped the gift and was already about to press the button. She felt she was being impulsive.
“Maybe we should wait until…” she began.
“Just go!” her father interrupted her. “You have been looking forward to this moment for years. After this one, we’ll plan the next one together.” He opened his fingers wide and spread his hands in front of him as if to show that nothing more was needed.
“OK,” she agreed tentatively. “OK!” Ariel reached out and held her finger firmly on the green button on top of the Time Machine, just as she had seen it done in the advertisements. She knew it was important to maintain physical contact with the button. She closed her eyes.
The kitchen was suddenly filled with a sustained hissing sound. Ariel and the Time Machine slowly faded in transparency. She was whole, then cloudy, then her father could see the wall through her silhouette, and then she was gone.
Ariel’s father felt a slight pull that almost made him stumble forward. He smiled in amazement and imagined where or rather when his daughter may be at that moment. He sat back and closed his eyes, complete with happiness at the surprise he had bestowed upon his daughter.
The door opened abruptly and Ariel’s mother walked in the front door. “Where’s my birthday girl?” she called into the void of the apartment.
“She’s not here,” her father called back contentedly. “She’s gone on a brief adventure.” He chuckled softly.
“What? Where?” his wife asked. She was unaccustomed to plans changing suddenly like this.
Ariel’s father explained about the Time Machine, the surprise, Ariel’s excitement, and how she vanished.
“No, no, no!” Ariel’s mother exclaimed. “If the machine only goes backward in time, how will she return?”
