The Good Old Days - 2. Chapter 2

The whole day was spent inside the cramped office of the church, going over the Old Testament. Justin was fidgety and hot the entire time. Wasn’t air conditioning around yet? He wouldn’t ask it, but he really, really missed that simple luxury.

Elijah came back mid afternoon, reeking of Justin’s least favorite smell—beer. Justin held his breath; he couldn’t help it. Elijah sat in the armchair next to him and started to chat with Father Joseph about his day.

“I helped load up the trains.” Elijah propped his foot up onto the table, revealing a half-destroyed shoe. “I got my foot stuck in the rails, had to yank it out. Hurts a little bit, but my shoe is…”

“Justin?” Father Joseph interrupted. The teen looked like he was about to pass out.

Justin puffed out a deep, heavy breath and looked a little dizzy. “Sorry,” he mumbled leaving the office with a hand over his nose and mouth. Half of it was because he felt sick, and the other half was trying to block on the strong smell wafting off Elijah’s clothes.

It smelled worse than when it was on his father, if it was possible. Elijah might as well have taken a bath in the stuff.

“Justin?” Father Joseph called out as Justin seated himself into one of the pews on the right. “Are you okay?” The pastor rushed over and pressed a hand to Justin’s forehead. “Is it the heat? You haven’t had much to drink…”

“Elijah smells like beer,” Justin snarled, watching Elijah standing at the door to the office. Father Joseph nodded in understanding and looked over his shoulder to the other teen. “Elijah, why don’t you go change your clothes? The smell is a little too much for Justin to handle.”

“Oh.” Elijah hurried down the center aisle between the pews. “I’m sorry. I’ll head back to the house then.” He sent Justin an uncertain look before leaving the church.

“Sorry,” Justin admitted. “That was kind of a dick move of me.”

Father Joseph seemed confused at the words, but he at least caught the tone. “It’s not your fault,” he soothed quietly. “If you explain it to Elijah, I’m sure he’ll understand.”

Justin sighed and cradled his face in his hands. He really hated moments like this, where the little things set him off. Father Joseph just rubbed back until Justin had calmed down a little. “You should go talk to Elijah,” the pastor suggested.

“I don’t know how to get back to the house by myself,” Justin choked out nervously. He was still freaked out by this. Studying, even if it had been the Bible, at least seemed familiar to him. Maybe he really should try going to the school? But he was too scared to go anywhere by himself. He could get lost, or he could do something these people considered strange and—

“I’ll walk back with you,” Father Joseph offered simply. “Just let my tidy up the office and we'll be on our way.”

Justin nodded, and Father Joseph left him for a few minutes on the pew. The pastor returned with Justin’s backpack, which he clutched to his chest for comfort. They walked stiffly back to Father Joseph’s house. He was an unmarried man, thirty-four years old. He had dark brown hair, slightly wavy with deep brown eyes. He was only slightly shorter than Justin, but had a much smaller body frame.

Justin wondered again if Elijah and Father Joseph were related somehow—were pastors even allowed to have sex? And Justin hadn’t been listening or paying attention to what kind of church the pastor belonged to. Didn’t that make some difference on the sex part?

Soon they were back at the man’s house. It was two stories, but small and square. Father Joseph let them inside, the door being unlocked already since Elijah was home. “Go talk,” Father Joseph stressed and began to remove his dusty shoes.

Justin didn’t want to. With Father Joseph, he figured there was something that kept talking to the man on a more professional level… if he was stuck there; he wanted to be friends with Elijah. He didn’t want to tell anyone about what his father did.

“Go,” The pastor repeated more firmly. Sighing, Justin trudged up the narrow stairs and into Elijah’s square room. He was just pulling on a fresh pair of pants, and was absent of a shirt. His face and neck had a slight worker’s tan, but the rest of his body was pale and fair.

Justin cleared his throat to announce himself, catching Elijah’s attention. “Hi,” Elijah mumbled meekly and dipped a washcloth into a basin of water on a small dresser against the left wall. He started wiping himself down.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” Justin said quietly. He stared down at the carpet and Elijah’s bare feet. “I didn’t mean to offend you or anything by it.”

“It’s a strong smell,” Elijah admitted, chuckling quietly. “It made me sick the first time I worked there too.”

Justin probably could have left it with that excuse—he just wasn’t used to the smell. But he was. “It’s not that, really,” He continued. “My dad’s a… drunk. The smell of beer makes me feel sick because of him, not because I’m not used to it.”

Elijah paused on his rub down, holding the washcloth to his neck. “I’m sorry.”

Justin shrugged and helped himself to the brown leather armchair in the corner of Elijah’s room, closer to the door. “Can’t be helped,” Justin sighed again. Elijah hesitated before washing his face and tossing the washcloth aside to pull on a shirt.

“Are you and Father Joseph related?” It was bothering Justin to know, even though it wasn’t something appropriate to ask to bluntly.

“No.” Elijah sat on his bed, a small single tucked into the far corner of the room diagonal from where Justin sat. “I was orphaned when I was a baby. They left me at the church, and Father Joseph raised me.”

“Oh.” Justin looked down at his knees, feeling awkward. He hugged his backpack close to his chest again. “Sorry,” he returned the sympathy Elijah had offered earlier.

Elijah laid down and stretched himself out on his bed, letting out a content sigh. The two boys fell into an awkward silence. Eventually, Elijah’s soft snores filled the room, but Justin’s mind reeled. His father would probably have his ass for disappearing for days like he had.

He needed to figure out some way to get home. Being here wasn’t right. It wasn’t where he was supposed to be, and even if these people were nice to him… even with knowing his father was an abusive drunk—he needed to find people that didn’t live in 1880.

He would return eventually… right? And what then? He couldn’t expect to come back. Justin promised himself that he would try to find someone to talk to, if he ever got back. Get someone he could trust to confide in.

Justin’s head started to dip as he nodded off in the armchair.

And he got that strange feeling again that made his stomach sick, his ears felt like they were going to implode. It almost didn’t feel as bad that time, but he woke up feeling nauseous. He stared up at the clouded sky, dark and ready to rain.

He let out a shaky breath, smiling to himself. ‘Fucking dream!’

Justin stood up from the bush he had fallen asleep in. He patted himself down in search of his cell phone, only… the device wasn’t in the brown pants Elijah had leant him that had in fact been too short, so he rolled them up to mid-shin to look like capris. He still wore a white button down long sleeve shirt. Justin gawped down at himself in horror.

He grabbed his backpack and stumbled out of the bush and into the familiar park area. The library was in his sights across the street. He ran over the bridge into downtown, and passed the Old Capitol Grill. He bolted into the public restrooms and changed back into his clothes, stuffing Elijah’s away in a panic.

Justin stayed in there until the foul smell got to him, that’s when he headed for home. He checked his cell phone, the time reading just after five and… it was only the morning after he had gone to sleep. But he had spent two days in 1880!

He couldn’t just write it off as a dream. He still had the clothes.

Justin was too out of it to enter the house carefully. Luckily, his father was passed out on the couch, and Justin held his breath up the stairs. He jumped into the shower and zoned out under the water.

How did that even happen? Whatever. He wasn’t going back there. People would think he was insane if he mentioned it… people thought he was insane back in 1880, too! It didn’t matter where he went, he’d still be weird.

When the water turned cold, Justin remembered he had to get to school. It was almost six by the time he redressed and started his walk towards the school, about a mile away from his house. A light rain started to fall, just enough to keep everything cool.

Justin got to the school a little early, and he went down to the library. He found a few books on history, though none of them on what he’d wanted. He helped himself to some of the computers there, and did a quick few minutes of research.

The Coors brewery had opened up about 1873 by two German men—but it was a small building. That would explain why Justin hadn’t seen the huge concrete mass production building that was there in modern day. Golden was one of the main cities at the time, having been the capitol of the Colorado territory before Ulysses S. Grant made it a state in 1876.

The bell rang, and Justin swore. He still wanted some details, but he had to exit out of the internet windows and head to his class. There, he inspected the people carefully. Most just didn’t bother interacting with them, and there were one or two that harassed him. He figured there wasn’t much friend material.

What would make friend material anyway? Someone who stood up for him when he got bullied? There was no one like that—there would a few that would watch, obviously wanting to step in, but they never did. Those kinds of people probably wouldn’t make good friends either.

Justin decided to give up by the end of the day. He went back to the library after school, utilizing the last thirty minutes the library would be open.

He couldn’t find anything specific on Father Joseph or Elijah. Just regular townspeople didn’t make history. Justin copied down the name of the next president into a notebook. He looked up when air conditioning had been invented, and it wouldn’t be another twenty years for them. Justin scowled. How did people live without it? Maybe he should figure out how to build it and take that back—

No, what was he thinking? He didn’t want to go back. He flipped his notebook shut and left the library. Besides, changing history always messed things up in the movies, so it wasn’t a good idea.

He followed his usual routine of hanging around under the bridge and at the park still the sun started to disappear. He walked home from there, where his father was up and moving. Justin made a cautious and wide birth, swinging out near the kitchen and away from his father in the livingroom as he passed.

His father looked up, but didn’t make a move. Justin took off up the stairs and locked himself into his bedroom, listening for some sound of the man following, but he wasn’t. Justin dropped his backpack and curled up on his bed.

He was almost afraid to try and go to sleep. Once it sent him to 1880, and then two nights later took him back to 2011. If he did manage to get back, would time have passed in 1880? Justin groaned and covered his head with a pillow. He wasn’t going back!

He fell asleep in the early evening, and woke up habitually around five again. Justin checked his surroundings, glad to see he was still in his bedroom. He moved through the morning routine of showering and getting dressed for school, before starting the mile walk there.

The morning was clear, without the rain that had threatened the day before. Justin kept his head hung down, chin almost to his chest, and black hair covering his face almost like a curtain. He could see enough of his feet and the sidewalk to know where he was going.

He wondered how much the school had changed over the years. He really should have checked the building out while he was there. Justin stopped the thought for a moment, sighing in frustration. He needed to stop thinking about it!

Another school day past as normal. He got bothered during lunch, but he ignored them mostly. Still no prospective friends, he was disappointed to find out. Justin had tried talking to a few people, girls mostly. They were supposed to be nicer, friendlier, right? They just snorted and rolled their eyes at him.

Justin didn’t understand it much until after the third girl did it, and realized they thought he was trying to hit on them. He scowled angrily and gave up for the day. There was no way in hell he was going to get married, anyways. He didn’t want kids. He didn’t want to end up like his father should anything ever happen.

Curiosity got a hold on him again by the end of the day, and Justin found himself on another library computer. He tried looking up his whole family history. He found an old family farm on his father’s side in the 1900’s but that’s not what he wanted.

After thirty minutes of following links back from his mother’s maiden name, he found an old newspaper article of marriages in Golden during the late 1800s. Justin finally managed to find the people that had lived there—one Elizabeth Crow married Daniel Grote. Grote was the German family side of his mother’s family.

Justin copied down the names and date of the wedding into his notebook right as the librarian asked him to leave. He shut down the computer and carried on to the public library. It would be so weird to meet them. He knew a little bit about the Grote name, but only a few stories of their immigration his mother had told him.

‘Fuck.’ But again, what did it matter? Justin wasn’t going back. The whole experience had just made him a little more interested in history, was all.

***

After a few days, Justin finally managed to stop thinking about it so much. He expanded more into researching general American history to get his mind off of Golden. It didn’t take much longer before he got tired of taking notes and trying to remember names again and gave up completely.

He went back to the routine of trying to make his way through school and home invisible. He bothered no one and hoped they returned the favor. Every once and a while he would still get a rude name thrown at him, but Justin just ignored it.

A week went by with nothing happening. A new student transferred in, but that didn’t affect Justin... at least until the kid tried to become friends with him.

“So are you a senior too?” The boy asked in science. It took Justin a moment to realize that the question was directed at him, and immediately went on the defensive.

“This is a senior science class,” he pointed out darkly.

“Well that kid is a junior in here.” The boy pointed at some other student, but Justin didn’t look. The boy waited for Justin to say something more and add to the conversation, but he didn’t. “I’m Daniel.” The boy held out a hand in greeting. Justin tentatively accepted it, trying not to snicker at the religious name.

Daniel started a light conversation, going on about where he had transferred from and why. His dad was a college professor and got a job at the School of Mines. They had lived in Denver. He drove some little sports car, and Justin was slowly starting to hate the guy already.

He had money and a normal seeming life, while Justin had been in the 1880s for two days a week ago! Justin mentally swore, having promised himself that he wouldn’t think about that again. He let himself be distracted by Daniel’s chatter, which soon turned to asking Justin questions. “So where do you live around here?”

“Uh, over by the park...” He wouldn’t really tell Daniel where—he didn’t need someone dropping by and aggravating his father. Plus, it might not even be safe if that happened.

What did he care though, really? Daniel would give up after a day. But if he didn’t... Justin realized this was a good time to put his idea of trying to get at least one friend back into action. Maybe if Daniel wasn’t too bad—that would take some time to figure out—Justin could even talk to him, a little more personally.

Justin started to participate more openly in the conversation after that. He asked a few more questions about Daniel, trying to figure him out. What would he gain from befriending or betraying Justin, really? There was no reward either way. He had to be genuinely curious.

They talked the whole class until the teacher called them out to be quiet. Snickering, both Justin and Daniel faced the front of the class and listened.

The two only had that class together, though shared a lunch period. Justin usually stayed inside to eat, but Daniel convinced him to eat outside—compromising for the shade under a tree. “It’s too hot,” Justin complained and started to munch on some chips. “It has to be in the eighties.”

“Maybe, but you’re in all black,” Daniel pointed out and smirked. Justin shifted a little uncomfortably—all black mostly because if he didn’t have a chance to safely do laundry, they didn’t look too dirty... and he sometimes got a bloody nose or something else. The blood stain wouldn’t show as easily.

Justin only shrugged, not inclined to share that reasoning with Daniel. The whole time Justin ate with Daniel, no one bothered them. Justin played with the idea that Daniel’s brighter colored clothes made some reflective barrier that prevented others from wanting to come closer. Maybe Daniel wouldn’t be so bad if he could at least make things a little easier at school—even if he was just a little self absorbed. Whatever. Justin didn’t want to talk about himself that much anyways. Listening was just fine.