Back to the Past

Milty

I sat at the dinner table reading Ward's autobiography.

This much I knew. If you're not careful, your possessions possess you.

I didn't mind books possessing me because they had such interesting things in them.

If anything, I was using them to learn about people things that didn't exist in my time. 

But to my brother...

"Those books are useless, sister. That's why my motto is never read" he said.

"That explains so much about you, Peter" I said.

"Sam! It's dinnertime, dear. Enough reading" said Baba.

"Look, Baba. If we're gonna be time traveling thieves, why not steal stuff from this lady's kitchen? Where I don't have to read and I can watch the show on her TV?" I said.

"First of all, we are not thieves! Secondly, stay out of that house. And this... this Burt Ward fellow... is a total stranger! From the future! So don't even think about knowing him until he's well known enough in our time" said Baba.

I know I'm not supposed to be interested in someone who doesn't exist to the public yet in our time, but there's something about Burt Ward.

His book implied that he didn't just act. He learned from his experiences. 

I mean, just read this little paragraph from his book. 

Wow, was it hot outside, and hotter in that costume! I inched my way to the makeup seat, sat down and was thrilled that I had made it that far. I kept telling myself that acting was the most glamorous occupation in the world. After all, for the price of fame, fortune and a bed of roses, you'd expect a few prickly thorns or itchy tights along the way, right?

Oh, Burt was right. Oh, yeah.

Time traveling, for me, had more "prickly thorns" and "itchy tights" than anything. I've seen worse, believe me. But that was the best way to describe being a time traveler and trying not to be seen as a time traveler.

Suddenly, I heard some animal whining.

I exited the basement to find a large golden retriever dog laying down near the woods with a thorn stuck in his paw.

"Hello. Are you okay?" I said.

The dog looked at me with big sad eyes.

I pulled the sharp thorn out of his paw.

"There you go, pal. You should be fine" I said petting his fur.

As I turned to leave, the dog followed me. 

"You can't go with me, big guy. You need to get back to where you belong" I said.

The dog didn't listen. He just rubbed his head against my leg.

"Aww. You don't have an owner anymore, do you?" I said.

I looked at the license on his collar and read his name.

"Milty?" I said.

The dog licked my face.

"Hi, Milty. I'm Sam Pan-Cook" I said.

Milty raised his paw as if he wanted to shake my hand.

"I have a good feeling about us. I think we're gonna be best buddies" I said.

Milty seemed to feel the same. He rubbed against me and growled softly letting me hug him.