Naptime

by Jeff Baker

The shaking in the small room stopped and the man on the cot’s eyes flew open. He saw a toppled stack of books, a spilled cup of coffee and scattered clothes and an overturned chair. There was a big picture window on the opposite wall, running nearly the length of the narrow room, about twenty feet. The window looked out into a corridor and the open door of an office. Now, where and when was he?

“Ohhhhhh, boy!” the man muttered.

He hopped out of bed and tried the door at the far end of the room. Locked.

“This isn’t another jail is it?” he asked.

There was a whizzing sound and a man in a gaudy suit smoking a cigar suddenly stepped out of nowhere.

“Hey, Sam,” the man in the suit said. “Sorry I didn’t get here sooner. There was some kind of interference and when I was here before I didn’t want to wake you…oh, nice shorts.”

Sam glanced down. He was only wearing a pair of boxer shorts. He blushed.

“Okay, Sam,” the man said clicking on a handheld device with a finger that wasn’t holding a cigar. “Your name is Zack Bailey and you’re a college kid who signed up for a sleep study here and…you just had an earthquake.”

“Yeah, Al, I noticed. “Sam said.

“And not just any earthquake, this is THE earthquake. The one that interrupted the 1989 World Series and wrecked half of San Francisco. Oh, it’s October 17, 1989 and you’re just outside Oakland, California.”

Sam glanced over at the window. Al was a mentally-projected hologram and didn’t reflect and instead of Sam’s reflection there was a skinny pale kid with dark hair.

“Anyway,” Al said. “Doctor Beeks is checking Zack over. He’s out of it.”

“Out of it?” Sam asked.

“Yeah, he was awake enough to say he took sleeping pills.”

“Sleeping pills?” Sam asked.

“A couple of over-the-counter things. Dozey-Doodles or something like that.” Al said. “Beeks says he’s fine but isn’t staying awake.”

“Any idea what I’m here to do?” Sam asked. He was pacing the floor slowly, stepping over things that had fallen during the earthquake.

“Uh, no.” Al said, poking at the device. “Ziggy says there was some kind of magnetic interference here before the quake and it traveled in through the link and it’s affecting her ability to access the history files.”

Sam had stopped pacing in front of the window.

“Al!” Sam said pointing out the window. “I think I know what I’m here to do.”

Sam and Al stared.

Outside the window in the small office there was a large man in a security uniform sitting on a wooden chair, one hand clutching at his chest but apparently passed out, his head tipped to one side.

“Looks like he was having chest pains and had some kind of heart attack,” Al said.

“If I was out there I could do something, like CPR.” Sam said.

“You are a doctor, after all” Al said, walking through the wall and giving the guard the once over.

“He’s still breathing, Sam.” Al said as he stepped back into the room. “But I’m not sure for how long. And nobody else is out there.” He clicked on the device. “Ziggy says that the guard…” Al looked up. “This information is from his obituary, Sam. They find him here when they check on Zack in a few hours.”

“And this window is too thick to break.” Sam said. “I don’t know what…wait…wait…I think I know…”

Standing outside, Sam and Al watched as paramedics lifted the guard on a stretcher into the ambulance. The guard was in an oxygen mask but he gave Sam a thumbs-up before they closed the ambulance doors and drove off.

“That was quick thinking, Sam.” Al said. “I wouldn’t have thought to look for a phone in that sleep-study bedroom.”

“You couldn’t see it because it was under stuff that had fallen during the earthquake.” Sam said. “It was probably for emergencies. And I’m betting that Zack would have slept through all of this.”

“In the original history, he did.” Al said. “But now that guard is around for a bunch more years, because you got a hold of someone else in the building. And he’s back on the job in a few weeks.”

“Hey, what about Zack?” Sam asked.

“Oh, well, he graduates in a couple of years, but I don’t think they ever finish the sleep study.” Al said checking the device. “And you’re about to…”

But in another instant, Sam was gone and Zack plopped down on the sidewalk, fast asleep.

—end—

AUTHOR’S NOTE: I started doing these weekly stories ten years ago in May 2016. This was one of the prompt pics for when they were doing two Facebook prompt pages years ago, one I didn’t do a story for. I thought the guy in it looked like actor Scott Bakula. Hence this piece of fan fiction. Hope you liked it. Oh and that “magnetic interference” before the 1989 ‘quake really happened…

Next week, something special. See you then.

—jeff