The little boy looked up at his father with starry eyes, wanting to defy the clear sign of night and begging to hear just a few more words from him. "Did the police get you, Dad?" The father shook his head with a grin, pointing at himself, "You really think I would let the silly police get me?" He asked, looking offended, "No. Sapnap and I were too stealthy. We hid in the bushes." "What about the helicopter? Did it crash after you threw fireworks at it?" The boy sat up straighter, inching closer to his storytelling father, filled with curiosity. The man laughed, rubbing his son's hair, "If it did, you wouldn't be here right now." "Why not?" The boy asked. Well, for one I would have been in jail." The father explained, "-and also if it had crashed I never would have met your mother." "How did you meet mum?" The little boy grinned, tricking his father into extending his bedtime and telling another story. The man looked on reminiscently, "She walked up to us and asked why we were hiding in the bushes. She said we looked dumb." The little boy laughed, "You probably did look dumb, Dad." The father looked offended, "Your father? Dumb?" He threw a blanket over his son's head, "You think your mum would have married me if she really thought that?" "That's true, dad." The boy said as he took the blanket off his head, "You and mum are the best. She was probably your first love, right Dad?" The father's hand twitched, "Of course, son." He answered, the light in his eyes leaving for a split second but returning once he caught sight of his bright smiling son in front of him. "Good." The boy said, "Can I have one more story? I got an award at school, I think I de-de-" "Deserve?" The father finished for him. "Yes, that word." The father sighed, "Alright, what do you want to hear?" "My favourite one." The boy answered quickly, "About your friend over the phone." As unknowingly difficult as it was for him to tell that story, the man gave in. He could never say no to his son. "Oka-" "Can you two please be quiet?"Another little boy called out from the bed across from them, "I'm trying to sleep and you guys are so loud." The father rolled his eyes with a smile, "Just tune us out, Techno. Don't be a drama queen." The boy called Techno sighed heavily and collapsed onto his bed with a groan. "Anyway, before we were so rudely interrupted by your brother," the man continued to his son, "By then it was August of 1970...."
_ _ _
A woman was dusting the trophies on the shelf when her husband walked out of the children's bedroom. "Goodnight, Wilbur." She heard him say faintly as he shut the creaking door behind him, making her smile. He walked up to her with a tired stature and kissed her head. "Hello, love." She smiled, "What took you so long in there, Clay?" She asked curiously, dropping her duster and facing him. "He just wanted a lot of bedtime stories. He always does, Ophie."Her husband Clay answered, leading them both on the couch to sit. The woman named Ophie leaned back onto the couch, "He always goes on about this story you tell, but he won't tell me what it is." "That just means he kept my promise." Clay smirked, and Ophelia looked offended. "You made him promise not to tell me?" She looked jokingly shocked as she hit him with a pillow, "You're such a piece of work, Clay." Clay suddenly got a sense of deja vu, but chose to ignore it. Instead, he walked up to the cassette player in the corner of the room and pressed play. Ophelia watched as he walked toward her with his hand held out, "You and I both deserve a break, don't you think?" He smiled, "May I have this dance?" She grinned as she took his hand and they stood in the living room waiting for a song to play. It was an annoying tape player, always took a while. The echoey room provided a reverb that compared to that of music playing in the ballroom, and as the tape clicked to indicate the song about to play, Clay held his wife close to him. "Woah, my love. My darling, I've hungered for-" Clay's eyes widened as he let go of Ophelia. "What's wrong?" She asked, watching him walk quickly to the tape player and mess with the buttons. Clay processed her question late, "Oh just-" He fumbled with the player until he found the button to skip the song, "It's just an overplayed song to dance to, don't you think?" She watched him curiously, seeing his eyes melt down to the floor slowly. There meant so much more to that song than she'd know. More than he'd tell her, but she held her questions in as he again took her hand to dance to a different song.
April 3rd, 2015
A baby was crying uncontrollably in a blond woman's arms as faint knocking could be heard at the door. "Wil!" The woman shouted, "Someone's knocking." "I know, I know." Wilbur ran to the door and opened it. It was his father. His eyes happy as if he were waiting for his son to invite him inside. "Er- Dad." He greeted awkwardly, "What are you doing here?" "Why, it's my birthday!" Clay said, and Wilbur looked confused. "I'm kidding, no it's not, I just wanted to see if you'd remember." "Oh." Wilbur managed a small smile, "Why are you here, then?" Clay was about to answer when a large thud was heard across the street. "What in heavens was that?" Clay asked. Wilbur waved his hand in disregard, "Just our new neighbor. He's had quite the trouble moving in." He indicated the large uHaul truck filled with furniture across the road. "That's actually why I'm here." Clay said quickly, and Wilbur raised his eyebrow in confusion. "What?" Wilbur asked, "Because of our neighbor?" Clay nodded slowly, "Remember when you were a kid," He began as he started walking into Wilbur's house, which shocked Wilbur but didn't surprise him as his father was the kind of person to enter a house uninvited. "Yes..?" "I'd tell you stories." "I remember..' ---- Clay was suddenly being ushered out of the house, "I'm your father, boy! You can't just kick me out of your house." "You haven't talked to us in years. You didn't even answer my call when I told you I was having a son. You showed up late to my wedding." Wilbur named the mistakes his father had made to him one by one, "And you come here with your absurd fictional story that I believed as a kid?" "You know I don't answer calls. Look, Wilbur you don't understand-" "No, you don't understand." Wilbur argued, "If you came here to say sorry or make up for it, I maybe would have forgiven you. Instead you just try and weedle your way into my family again after you for years weren't a part of it." Clay looked angrily at his son, but hurt was present in his eyes, "Fine. Kick me out. Just take this." He threw an old worn leather notebook at his son, "All I have to say is give it five years. In five years, you'll see." Wilbur watched his father walk away willingly. He expected him to fight his way back inside, or argue more, but no. He just walked away, leaving him only with this notebook. He disregarded it as he threw it onto a table nearby as he heard another knock on the door. door. "You don't have to let me in!" He heard someone shout from the other side, "But just know, that I am very, very sorry. I love you and your family Wilbur. Maybe if you'll let me, one day I can meet Tommy-" Wilbur walked closer to the door, listening to the rest. "-and I know things haven't been the same. I'm glad you chose to live with your mum after she and I separated but-" He heard his father sigh, "I still want to be your father, and I don't know how much time I have left to still be that to you." Wilbur heard the hurt in his father's voice, and tears fell down his cheeks without him realizing it. He sighed as he opened the door, ready to formally forgive his father after nearly ten years, but there was nobody on the other side.
July 30, 2020
Wilbur walked down the street, notebook in hand as he finally set to fulfill his father's outlandish task. He waited in front of his neighbor's house and waited for ten, fifteen, then thirty minutes. "Expected." He sighed as he made to walk away. Suddenly he heard his neighbor's door open, and he turned to see. A young man was walking outside with a shovel that looked heavier than what he could carry. He opened the door to his yard and walked around before finding a corner of the grass to start digging at. Wilbur's eyes widened. Could it be? No, this was just a coincidence. He kept watching the young man, and opened his notebook to check the date. "July 30, 2020: George unburies the time capsule" He took out a pen and wrote a small checkmark next to the date, and looked back up. He realized the boy George was looking at him, and he realized how creepy and suspicious he looked, so he started walking away. Wilbur went back home and collapsed on the couch, "Oh god." He sighed to himself, "He was telling the truth this whole time..."
