No Early Birds: A Short Story

No Early Birds

A Short Story

About Time

Mackey Chandler

Edited by D. Jason Fleming

Cover image by Covermint Design

Copyright 2016 Mackey Chandler

              One Saturday morning in April, we four widows were doing garage sales in Bradenton. Faye, Anna, Edna and I like to do the nice middle class neighborhoods. We lived in a much nicer section ourselves, down near Sarasota, but God's own truth is, rich people don't put anything out at sale until it's used up, worn out, and ready to throw away. Stuff less well to do people would be embarrassed to offer, though they'd drop it in the charity box without a qualm. We got stuck following two woman in a green SUV like happens sometimes. They always seemed to pull into the next sale just ahead of us. When we'd walk in they'd be walking out with treasures that could have been ours. Finally we skipped ahead of them by passing the next sale where they'd stopped. We should have skipped two or three ahead, because they caught up too quickly - practically running down the drive to join us at the next sale we reached.

              The bigger woman, a real Amazon, and awfully young to be playing this game, considered a cast iron bank carefully. It was the sort of thing that would be valuable in an original, but I could see from ten feet away it was a reproduction. Without setting the bank down she pulled out a phone and consulted it to see if she wanted the purchase. To my surprise she kept the reproduction, even after checking it out, as well as several other marginal finds before paying for them all. Then she and her friend rushed to their car, I assumed to beat us to the next sale.

              Edna was already back in the car, ready to go. She has a bit of arthritis and doesn't stand longer than she needs to. Anna Mae was the one who held us up by talking to the lady holding the sale about cross-stitch. She's mad about it using all kinds of fancy thread and making her own patterns. We couldn't say anything, what with it being her who was driving us that day. Faye would have just told her to get her butt in the car or she'd leave her there, had she been driving. Neither Edna or myself have the nerve to talk tough like Faye, though I wish sometimes I could.

              The green SUV was pulling away when we left the sale, but there laying on the end of the drive was the ladies phone. Now I don't need to look in eBay or a collectors site to know if I want to buy something. I know my glass and toys, and rarely buy outside what I know. But I can understand why somebody uses something like a phone or tablet to look up prices if they are buying for business. It's only been a few years now the whole county has had free wireless. Before that it was too expensive and if you had to run home or someplace like a coffee shop to check out a big purchase it was gone by the time you got back. Now with free access you see a lot of people checking items out on their phone or hand-held or even going back to the car and looking items up on a laptop.

              I snatched up the lady's little phone, thinking we'd see them down the street and return it, but we saw them leaving the end of the street left at the light. By the time we got to the intersection they were out of sight. They must have really moved fast. I even had Anna drive to the next block where there more sale signs when we didn't see them right away - which irritated Anna no end so that she made us go back to the street we hadn't finished, for fear we'd miss something.

              About eleven Faye started talking about lunch, because she never eats breakfast so she's always hungry first. We'd struck out the last few stops and it was sprinkling a little so we were happy to stop early. No need to talk about where. It was a given we stopped at the Waffle House when doing sales.

              Anna Mae is a good driver. All of us drive and do okay. Edna was a little slow and cautious, but none of us were the sort who drive through red lights or get lost like so many young folks try to make us all out to be. The only reason Anna and Faye drive doing sales is Faye has a minivan and Anna has an ancient Crown Victoria with a trunk that can swallow a chest of drawers or a bicycle for one of our grand kids and still close the lid.

              The reason I mention that is because I was looking down at the phone I'd picked up to see if I could find out who to return it to. It seemed more like an old PDA than a real phone. I didn't see any of the expected icons to let you dial or call up apps. I didn't feel like I had to watch Anna's driving. I trust her. Not like some folks I ride with where I keep a sharp lookout.

              It wasn't a old Palm, I found examining it closely. I remembered those, but it was nice looking little computer, whatever brand it was. I couldn't see a logo, maybe if I took the soft case off there would be one. It opened to a screen that displayed the current date and time. Below it was an identical box with blank forms for a different date and time. It seemed like an awkward way to open a calendar or scheduler. There was a tree icon that produced a big tree of branching categories of collectibles. It was rather extensive having listings for coins, clothing, porcelain, glass, furniture, books, ephemeral, and even such modern things as computers and big ticket items like cars, but it expanded the font when you ran the cursor over it so you could read the detail easily.

              Apparently it carried all that data in memory instead of accessing it by wireless. It always just amazes me how they keep cramming more and more memory in these things. If you go back in six months to get another phone the sales people just sneer at your old one. There was nothing that looked like an address book, so I looked in the calendar to see if the lady had any appointments for tomorrow that would let me return the thing to her. I punched the next day's date in, April 10, leaving the time blank and thumbed enter.

              Two things happened. The sun came out, which was peculiar because it was a solid gray overcast, and at the same instant Anna jammed hard on the brakes to stop at the red light, saying a nasty word. That just isn't like her at all.

              "Did you see that Violet Jeanne?" Anna asked me, because I was in the front seat with her. "The light went from green straight to red. That thing is busted for sure. We need to report that to someone," she insisted, all indignant.

              "No, I was looking down playing with this uh, phone or whatever. It doesn't seem to have any way to connect to anything. And when I put a date in it doesn't display any appointments. It just looks like a way to reset the clock." That was strange to leave up on the screen all the time. She was so shook up at the light she didn't seem to have noticed the odd way the sky cleared up. It was only another block to the Waffle House. I was glad because the light had left Anna rattled.

              The window booth we like was open which was nice, the Waffle House is usually crowded on a Saturday and we often can't sit there. Faye went to the rest room and Edna went outside to buy a Tribune from the box.

.              "This is weird," Edna said when she came back, tossing the paper on the table, "They have the Sunday paper in the box already on Saturday morning."

              I'll always remember that was the instant I understood. But I didn't speak up right away trying to get my words together so I didn't sound like a crazy lady. Anna helped me along a bit, looking out the window and across the street.

              "That's the Episcopal church across the street isn't it? Not the Adventists?"

She put the emphasis wrongly on the second syllable instead of the first, but I decided now was not the time to get bogged down in details. People can sulk on it the rest of the day if you correct them.

"So why is the parking lot full on a Saturday?" Anna asked, in case we didn't get her point.

              "Anna, Edna, I think something very strange happened. I'm pretty sure it
is
Sunday."

              Just then Faye returned from the restroom and stopped at the looks on our faces, not sitting down.

              "What's going on?" she asked, looking back and forth between us.

              "Violet finally had the butter slide off her noodles," Anna assured her calmly, tilting her head to demonstrate. "She thinks it's Sunday. Just play along like everything is okay, and we can still have a nice lunch before we call the men in white coats."

              "Make fun all you want," I invited Anna. "Faye honey, would you walk up to the counter and ask the cook what the date is today?"

              She looked at me funny, but went up and asked. We saw the fellow glance down at his watch and saw the answer on his lips even before she came back.

              "Today's the eleventh, according to his wrist watch."

              "And the paper, and the whole congregation of Episcopalians across the street. I never did hold with everything they believe, but most of them have wit enough to know what day to show up at church," I said. Nobody had an answer to refute any of that.

              The waitress came just then and we all had to stop and order something. She must have known something was bothering us because none of us were ready, and Faye was still standing awkwardly, but she sat down and the waitress took our order and didn't try to hurry us along. It wasn't like the place was hopping and she needed to rush us.

              "Okay, allowing for the sake of argument that it
is
Sunday." Faye asked. "How did all of us get that confused? Odds are all four of us are not going to show the first signs of Alzheimer's on the same morning in April. That's too much coincidence to believe in, and I don't feel out of it at all. At my age I don't need to misplace a whole day. I'm trying to make the most of every one I can."

              "Nothing is wrong with us. When I pushed the enter icon on the ladies device, the time changed on the screen, but it also changed outside the car. Anna complained the light went from green to red and didn't show a yellow. I think it was us changed from Saturday to Sunday without any in between. And she was looking at the light so hard she missed it, but the sky changed from cloudy to sunshine at the same time. Not a bit at a time blowing away, but all at once like a scene change in a movie."

              We all sat thinking on it, not happy, but not coming up with any alternatives. I really have to give my girls credit. Nobody automatically said that's impossible. I don't think any of us have used that word since old Mrs. McLain ran off with the Cuban pool boy to Texas.

              "Fine," Edna agreed. "Punch yesterdays date back in the little miracle machine and we'll just - poof - disappear and be sitting here on Saturday with a drizzle coming down outside and the parking lot across the street empty. The waitress will have to take our order again when we appear, and this time I'll get the chicken salad instead of tuna, because it's sounding better. Nothing lost except a few minutes from a Sunday that we'll all agree not to talk about."

              "And I don't think we want to go to Waffle House tomorrow and see if there are four familiar ladies sitting in our window booth. Agreed?" Faye asked.

              We all laughed nervously at that and I dug the little machine out of my purse. Funny thing was, nobody had asked to see it. If we bought something special at a sale everybody wanted to handle it and look it over closely. This little gadget seemed to intimidate them. I punched in the date for Saturday and hesitated.

              "What's the hold up?              " Faye asked. She's always the assertive one.

              "What if I don't put in yesterday? what if we can go to any day we want?

              They looked shocked, and then Edna started quietly crying.

              "What's wrong dear? I didn't mean to upset you."

              "I was just thinking of Mark. Next week is the third anniversary of his passing. I mean I know I couldn't change anything to save him. He was sick for years, and just worn out. But I didn't know he'd pass in his sleep, and if I could have just talked to him more, knowing it was my last day with him," she explained.

              "I think we'd need to think real hard and long about anything like that before we do it." Faye said as gently as she ever put things. She even put her arm around Edna and gave her a little squeeze. "Let's just try for yesterday and see what happens before we make things even more complicated."

              I punched Sat. April 10 in and looked at my friends.

              "Faye, you look at the street and sky and see if it changes back to drizzle, and Edna you look at the church parking lot and see if the cars change." I hesitated. "Anna, you watch me in case I disappear and leave you three here."

              "What if you do? How will we get back together?"

              "Would that be even be a problem?" Edna asked. "Did anybody have a doctor's appointment or something they hate to miss yesterday? Maybe we should just leave it be. I mean, if we just shifted a day forward what's the harm? Maybe we'd just live a day longer, be shifted forward a bit. That might not be such a bad thing. Think of all the people who died just a year or even a few months before the cure for their disease came out."

              "It's eleven-forty. If I go back alone I'll take a cab home and just wait to come here and walk in at eleven-forty-five and have lunch with y'all, and we'll go home. No problem."

              Faye suddenly looked out the window and seemed to be searching for something.

              "What you looking for honey?" I asked.

              "Uh, it suddenly occurred to me to look for your car in the parking lot," she said sheepishly.