PORTAL: Stuck in the Fabric of Time

The Wager

Those two kids had been the first people Frank Aldrin had seen here in years. He had initially feared for them, hoping they would not risk the pain of having their hopes dashed, but the boy had sold them his pitch. Watching them take the plunge off the cliff was a twist he had not foreseen.

Frank Aldrin blinked as Justin approached with that annoying smile of his. “Will they make it over there?”

Justin settled beside him. “From this point, there’s really no way for you to tell. Why don’t you take the plunge as well?”

“I already know what’s waiting on the other side. But it’s not for me.”

“How can you even say that? You don’t know that for a fact.”

“What? Platitudes and promises of a better tomorrow are for mindless weaklings, victims of a ruthless world. It’s all meaningless. There is no hope. And you should be ashamed of yourself for even insinuating otherwise.”

Justin fiddled with his fingers on the bench. “Do you ever wonder why I rhyme all the time?”

“I don’t care.”

“You’re not bothered? You’ve never wondered?”

Frank stared him down. “My guess is you’re going to tell me, anyway.”

“It’s because there is an order to my existence. I’m not left up to chance. God made me for His purposes. Time goes according to His plans.”

Frank wagged his head. “Yeah, yeah, we’ve heard it all before. So if there is purpose, why is there pain and suffering in the world? Why are men prone to so much evil? Why do good people, great people, die in the worst ways while criminals get rich? Why do millions die in tsunamis, when ‘He’s got the whole world in His hands?’ To think that there should be some purpose to all of this is to shut my eyes to the reality.”

“No, Frank. It’s a broken world, we know this. But God doesn’t leave you in the abyss. He adds His light into your stories. Your existence is anything but ordinary. Even when it doesn’t make sense, He asks that you trust Him. He’s promised to work something glorious out, and He’ll start in you, from within.”

Frank shrugged. “I don’t need this.”

“You know, I had hoped that seeing those two find their exit would help you see, even just a little bit.”

“And what exactly would it help me see?”

“That there is help! That there is grace. That there is a way to move on from this place.”

Frank chuckled. “I’m not like them. They’re not like me.”

“Why do you think so? It’s been 37 years, Frank. I really want to know.”

Frank looked on at the cottage across from him. “I deserve to be here. I choose to be here.” He folded his arms to end the conversation. “I want to be here.”

“For your pain—“

“Stop it, kid! I’m not a gullible victim looking for healing.” Something in his peripheral vision caught his attention. It was from the cottage.