Arnesto Modesto: The World's Most Ineffectual Time Traveler

Foul Play

Arnesto's Bank

Tuesday, May 2, 1989

Lunchtime

Arnesto liked to run errands during lunch. This gave him the chance to get off school grounds for a bit, even though it was against the rules to leave campus during school hours. You could get suspended for sitting in your own car with the engine off. Even so, he never got caught. On days when he planned on making his "prison breaks," as he called them, he parked in the wide-open east parking lot. Faculty must have thought no one would be foolish enough to try to leave from that lot, so it was the least patrolled.

On this particular day, Arnesto escaped to the bank to deposit his work check and some cash. He and Pete had just started betting again and with each paycheck, he snuck a little more of his gambling winnings into his account. It was safer in the bank than one of his hiding spots in the woods behind his house.

With all other variables equal, Arnesto had managed to walk into the bank at roughly the same exact time as he had in his previous life. However, the extra cash increased the duration of his transaction by a few seconds. It was that small but important extra time that allowed Norma, the teller in the next window over, to finish up with her customer before Arnesto's business concluded.

"I can help the next person," Norma said as Arnesto was being handed his receipt. Eula Romero was that next person. "Well, hi, Eula, how are you?" Eula and Norma knew each other from way back and had a nice chat. This put Eula in a better mood, making her less of a bitch, according to Ashley.

Ashley Morris was a sensitive, teenage nurse's aide working her first part-time job at the retirement home. She was not happy to be working that night with Eula, who was the charge nurse. Ashley felt Eula was particularly hard on her, while Eula felt Ashley needed more discipline. However, that night, Eula's mood seemed slightly better than usual.

Normally when her shift was over, Ashley left in a hurry before Eula could nag her any further. Instead, Eula let Ashley go early, so there was no need to rush. Perhaps that's why Ashley caught something moving out of the corner of her eye as she passed Doris Cook's room.

Doris Cook was suffering from dementia and wasn't long for this world. She was also a fall risk and trying to get out of bed to fetch her glasses, unaware they were already within reach on the tray table right next to her bed. One can hardly blame a senile, old woman with poor vision for such a mistake.

"Mrs. Cook!" Ashley exclaimed, reaching Doris just in time to catch her before she fell. Ashley helped Doris get back under the covers then handed the old woman her glasses before returning to the nurse's station to inform Eula, who was grateful, though she didn't show it.

Eula wanted to transfer Doris to a bed with sidebars, for Doris's protection, though she was still trying to wrangle permission from Janet Howard, Doris's daughter. It was a fine line between protecting the patient and patient rights. Since Ashley caught her in time, Eula wouldn't have to fill out an incident report, nor would she have to call Janet, who would undoubtedly have been upset and rushed right over.

Having not received any unexpected phone calls from her mother's nursing home, Janet Howard was now free to drive her son David to the game. David Howard would have made it in any case, as his father would have driven him. But Janet, being more uptight than her husband, helped David get there sooner.

David was thirteen years old, and found it hard to contain himself, especially as he and his mother were allowed into one of the employees-only entrances at Boston Garden. It was the third game of the first round of the playoffs, and the Celtics were already down two games to the Pistons.

As David's dad told him, "You're going to get more time on the floor than Larry Bird!" This was true, as Bird had quit the season early due to medical issues. David was ready. Once he arrived on the floor and the game began, he was so focused on his job as towel boy, he didn't even know who fouled whom. All he knew was that it was only the first quarter and this was his chance to shine. After the whistle, he ran out with his towel and wiped up the players' sweat off the parquet floor. He did a fine job, then ran off the court even faster than he had run onto it. And that was all it took.

If David had instead arrived at the arena a little later, due to his father's driving, then Philip would have been the one mopping up the sweat that time. And Philip, being less conscientious, would have missed one little spot which one of the Pistons would have pointed out to him. The Pistons player would have subconsciously altered his position as a result, and in doing so, would have been in a slightly better position to catch the rebound of the missed free throw. But that didn't happen. Instead, the Celtics got the rebound.

That one little extra rebound changed the entire flow of the game from that point on. The Celtics scored more than they should have, and the Pistons scored fewer. In the end, some chaos theory-induced series of events caused the Celtics to barely claim victory in a game they were not supposed to win.

This was upsetting to Pete, who had bet a couple thousand dollars on the game. "What the hell?!" he yelled at Arnesto the next day after school.

The results were even more upsetting to Arnesto, who had bet the same amount. "I don't know!" Arnesto yelled back.

"You told me," Pete said, gritting his teeth, "that the Pistons sweep the series."

"They — they did!"

"Obviously, they didn't!"

"I don't understand. I clearly remember them winning all three games. As a Celtics fan, I would remember something like that."

"Arnesto, are you sure it was this particular series? This season?"

"Well — yeah. Something's wrong. One of us must have... changed history. Did you drive over Isiah Thomas on the way home from school today?"

"I don't think so. Fuck. How can we ever bet on anything ever again?"

"Pete, I'm sure this was an isolated incident. I hope. The Pistons are still favored to win. I'm still going to bet on them."

"Not me. I'm out."