Jonathan Treadway Pop Goes the Time Traveler

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POP Goes the Time Traveler * Jonathan Treadway

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POP Goes the Traveler

POP

!

“Aahhh,” I yelled as I stumbled back a couple of steps in

surprise, and maybe even a little fright. There was nothing to
grab onto, and I ended up tripping over my own feet and
landing on my ass. The bright light that had accompanied
the popping sound had almost blinded me, particularly since
it was nearly dark. I blinked to get rid of the black spots
floating in front of my eyes and shifted around a little,
making sure I hadn’t hurt anything besides my pride. I
slowly rose up to my knees and started brushing off the dirt
from my hands. I checked myself to be sure I hadn’t ruined
my new Colonial costume, consisting of linen breeches and a
sleeveless waistcoat over a white shift, cotton knit stockings,
and brown tie shoes. It was nearly complete, except I had left
my straw hat in the house. I looked like a typical field hand
from that period.

“Shit, I better not have ruined anything,” I mumbled;

that would be the perfect end to a far-from-perfect day.
Elizabeth would have killed me, as she had just finished
making it this past weekend. Today had been its premiere at
the Bradford House, to much oohing and aahing from the
rest of the staff.

The Bradford House was a two-story Colonial, painted

brown, built in the 1790s. There was no electricity in the
house or barn, because the whole historical site was kept as
close to original as possible. It was mainly used to teach
school-age kids about life in Colonial times. There were
guided tours of the house too, which was furnished as it
would have been back in the late eighteenth century. During
the spring and summer, the Bradford House hosted several

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festivals with period-appropriate goods and foods to raise
money to support its upkeep and school programs, using the
fields on the other side of the barn.

Although it wasn’t visible from where we were, there was

a small building on the other side of the main house where
the properly costumed staff taught visitors how to make
butter, soap out of lye, pieced quilt tops, and candles. I had
just finished cutting out all the quilt squares used for
demonstrations so the kids could sew two together to see
how much work it was for tomorrow’s school visit, and I was
heading to my car after closing up. I didn’t have to be there,
but I had promised to get things set up for Elizabeth. It was
almost dark since it was after seven, but there was still
enough light to see the dust and dirt rise after swiping it
from my butt with both hands. I sincerely hoped there were
no grass stains, but looking around, I was relieved to see
more dusty dirt than grass.

“Here, sir, let me help you. I apologize profusely for

knocking you down.”

Concerned about my outfit, I had been oblivious to

anything else around me. Therefore, I froze in total shock at
hearing an English accent in front of me, and found myself
looking up at a strange man who seemed quite contrite, and
who hadn’t been there two minutes ago. He wasn’t very tall,
but I could see that he was dressed quite formally in dark,
old-fashioned clothing—with a fancily tied bowtie—and
lifting off a bowler hat with his left hand. He leaned over as
he held out his other hand; meanwhile, his eyes were taking
me in from head to knees, his eyebrows knit. I leaned away
from him, sitting back on my feet and keeping a distance
between us as I gazed back at him.

“Who the hell are you? And where the hell did you come

from? And what the fuck was all that noise and light and
shit?” I asked, pulling my hands behind my back. He didn’t
look very dangerous, but you never knew these days.

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“I’m Thomas Geisel, from London. I’m afraid I’m quite

confused as to when I am.” I could see Thomas looking
around, noticing the barn to the left of us and the house at
the other end of the dirt and grass clearing.

I needed to get off my knees, so I grudgingly grabbed his

hand, which was still sticking out, and allowed him to pull
me to my feet. I dusted off the dirt from my legs and shoes,
grateful that everything seemed to be fine, just a little dirty.
Standing up straight, I looked more closely at the gentleman,
for he definitely seemed like one. He wasn’t as old as I first
thought, maybe in his early thirties; the clothes he wore
made him seem older for some reason. I was a couple of
inches taller than he was, so I could look down at his
luxuriant blond hair, cut short with a very precise part on
the right side. He was actually quite good-looking, with blue
eyes and light eyebrows that were a bit too bushy for my
taste. He regarded me with confusion, his eyes taking in my
Colonial outfit.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” I asked, not sure I heard

him correctly.

“When are we?”
When are we?” I must have looked as confused as I felt.
“Yes, young man. What year is it, please?” He pulled a

small notebook from an inside pocket of his jacket and felt
around for a pen, then looked expectantly at me. I looked at
the pen and was surprised to see one of those old, clear Bic
pens. Wait… young man? Pu-leeease, I’m twenty-four. That’s
not
that much younger.

“What year is it? Ah… 2012.”
“Really? And the date?”
“July 6.”
“Right on the button. It worked perfectly. Where are

we?”

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“Massachusetts.” What worked perfectly? Who is this

guy? Why doesn’t he know where he is?

“Yes, I know that. What town in Massachusetts, sir?

And why are you wearing that? I can’t believe we would have
gone back to Colonial fashions after a hundred and fifty
years; they’re not exactly convenient.”

Okaaay. Definitely not all there, if you know what I

mean. “Uh, yeah. You’re in Lowell, at the Bradford House. I

work here and have to wear this costume so that everything
is authentic. That’s why it’s so dark; we only use candles.”

“Yes, that makes much more sense.” He nodded to

himself as he glanced around in the faint light from the
rising moon, then wrote some quick notes and put his
notebook and pen away. He hadn’t looked behind him, where
my car was parked, so I could see why he might be confused
about the time period.

“What is your name, sir?”
“Wallace. Wallace Somerfield.”
“May I call you Wally?”
“No, you may not. I hate that name.”
“Very good, Wallace. Well, as you’ve probably

determined, I have traveled here from England via a time
machine. When I left, it was July 6, 1860.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Although that would explain his

sudden appearance and the accompanying disturbances,
but… really. A time machine? I chuckled a little, but just in
case, I started moving away so that I could go around him,
pulling my keys out of my pants pocket.

“No, I’m not. It’s in my pocket for safekeeping. I need it

to get home tomorrow.” He looked at me confidently, as if he
expected me to believe him and praise him for his cleverness.
Yup, time for me to get out of there, head home, and get
some dinner. Maybe even a bath to soothe my aching ass.

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And definitely some wine; after a day like today, I absolutely
needed some wine.

I took off around him and ran over to my VW bug, my

pride and joy—pale yellow with a convertible top, which was
currently up. I couldn’t decide if that was good or bad right
at this moment, but when I parked this morning, the only
available space was under a tree and I didn’t want anything
falling into the pristine interior. If the top had been down, I
could have just jumped in, but then again, so could he. Oh
well, it was what it was.

“Wait, Wallace. You can’t leave me here alone. Please,

sir, I need you to take me some place where I can get a bed
and some food.”

I had unlocked the driver’s side door with my electronic

key on the way to the car so I could slide in quickly, but
wasn’t nearly fast enough getting the key in the ignition,
much less closing my door. Thomas had rushed over and
was looking at the passenger door, trying to open it. He
pulled on the handle a couple of times but it didn’t budge. I
ain’t no fool.

“Please, Wallace. I need your help. I promise I’m a very

honest person and I wouldn’t dream of hurting you.” He
looked at me beseechingly through the closed window. He
seemed so worried, and damn, he was even better-looking in
the car’s overhead light. Sighing, knowing I was a sucker for
anyone who needed help—especially handsome, lost-looking
men—I leaned over to open the door. I was just too damned
nice and knew I couldn’t desert him; I would just worry all
night if he was okay or not. There were big fields around the
house, and the closest hotel was several miles away. If he
really had popped over from England a hundred and fifty
years ago, he wouldn’t know where to go or how to act. He
already stuck out like a sore thumb in his clothes. But then I
looked down at what I was wearing, and realized that we
both did. I couldn’t help smiling to myself as I watched him
climb in and shut the door.

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Leaning over him to get the seatbelt, figuring he

wouldn’t have a clue if I asked him to put it on, he gasped
and pulled away at my sudden movement toward him.
“Um… sorry, Thomas. I’m just getting the seatbelt.” I leaned
back over him to grab it, stopping when I realized it put my
face right in front of his. I couldn’t help myself and checked
out his mouth, which was pursed in confusion, showing off
his full lips. I blushed a little, glad it was dark so he wouldn’t
notice, and pulled out the belt, locking it around him while
he watched, fascinated.

“Oh, that’s quite clever, and, I imagine, very safe. What

did you call it again? A seatbelt, isn’t that correct?” He
experimented, leaning forward to feel it restraining him a
couple of times, and then reached for his notebook and pen
again to make a few notes. After shaking my head in
disbelief, I put on my belt and started up the car. I checked
Thomas out of the corner of my eye as I began backing out,
but he didn’t seem too disturbed by the moving car, which
sort of surprised me. I mentally shrugged my shoulders as I
turned on the headlights and turned out of the Bradford
House’s driveway, eventually pulling out onto Route 133,
which was a very nice street with big, old Victorian houses. I
thought he might feel a little more comfortable going that
way rather than through the city itself, which wasn’t always
the nicest area. Thomas was busy looking at all the other
cars and inside the houses, seeming to enjoy himself while
he took more notes. I was astounded that he didn’t start
asking a ton of questions, but he was quiet. Too busy
looking, I guessed.

“So, Thomas. Assuming I believed you about your time

machine, what were your plans once you got here?”

“Well,” he started to say as he cleared his throat, “I

didn’t have any really solid plans, per se. I finally fixed the
problem I was having and was so excited, I just set the date
and year and arrived in front of you. I hoped I might be able

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to talk someone into taking me somewhere where I could
find an inn and get some food.”

“Why did you pick the Bradford House?”
“I chose Lowell because of the textile industry growth in

this area. I didn’t exactly choose a specific place, but decided
I should arrive somewhat outside of the city proper. I had a
map of this area and saw these fields, so I thought I’d be
fairly safe. I am actually very lucky that the fields are still
here.”

“That’s for sure. What would have happened if you

landed inside a wall or rock or something by mistake?”

“Oh, that couldn’t happen, Wallace. I designed it so that

if there was an obstacle, I’ll land beside it or on top of it.” I
wondered how the hell he had done that, but then began
wondering when I had started believing him in the first
place. I mean, he had popped up out of nowhere, and there
had been bright lights and a noise, so it could be logically
accepted that his time machine did work and that was how
he had arrived. On the other hand, if I could believe in time
machines, what came next? Shifters? Vampires? I wasn’t
sure I could handle those yet. I needed to wrap my mind
around a man being able to move around into any time
period he wanted to. Wait, there is a way he can prove it to
me!

“Can I see your time machine?” There was only one way

to check his story, it seemed to me. Thomas stared at me for
a minute then looked away, frowning a bit.

“Well, I guess that’s only fair, so yes, but I’d rather show

it to you later, if you don’t mind. I would prefer to be in a
closed room where it won’t get jostled or seen by an
unsavory person.”

Well, that made sense to me. It was probably pretty

intricate machinery and therefore very delicate. On the other
hand, it was a good cover up too. I sighed quietly, wondering
if I was just nuts enough to really believe him. Because I’ve

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got to say, I kind of did. He looked the part and he did talk a
little differently; a bit more formal than we do these days.
But wait, where did he get that Bic pen? And why wasn’t he
asking a million questions? And there was no reaction over
my pretty baby and how it worked and moved.

“What were you planning to do about paying for your

hotel and meals?”

“I did bring some gold, of course, but I was afraid to

carry anything other than what I could fit into my pockets.
And, of course, I know that our money is much different
from yours.” Okay, he isn’t a total jerk expecting me to pay for

everything. One redeeming quality I appreciated. But it didn’t
really solve the problem.

“Well, it’s kind of late to exchange your gold for money,

and most hotels prefer a credit card.”

“Credit card?”
Shit. I realized he was going to have to learn a lot in a

short time, and I didn’t really have the patience to do the
teaching tonight. “Never mind. How long did you say you
were going to stay?”

“I thought I’d explore for a little bit and return home

tomorrow evening. Then I can plan a little better for the next
trip.”

“The next trip?” I echoed while turning onto the Lowell

Connector. “You’re planning to come back?”

“Of course. What’s the point of having a time machine if

you don’t use it?” I had to give him that. We continued in
silence, and I pulled onto Route 495, going west. The traffic
was heavier on this major highway, and I drove carefully so
that I wouldn’t scare Thomas too much. He seemed pretty
accepting of all the different cars and traffic, which surprised
me. He asked about the Bradford House and why I worked
there in costume. I explained about the activities we offered
and how school children from the surrounding towns

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learned about what it was like living in Colonial times by
visiting Bradford House.

I had been watching behind me while we talked, as

there was a truck that was moving faster than me in my
lane. I knew there was trouble when it didn’t really slow
down and pulled up close behind us, flashing its lights. I was
in the middle lane, traveling at a reasonable speed of just
over sixty miles an hour, trying to be considerate of my
passenger’s probable new experience. However, the truck
driver wasn’t pleased that I was blocking him and kept right
on my tail. I checked on Thomas while I sped up to pass a
line of cars so I could change lanes, and he was finally
looking scared. He glanced back at the truck and at me then
closed his eyes, gripping the dashboard and door handle as
if getting ready to crash. I reached over and patted his knee,
then squeezed it as I tried to comfort him. Mmm, nice
muscles
, I thought, then got my head back into the present

situation. Be careful, Wallace. He’s a guest and very nervous
right now.

“Don’t worry, Thomas. I’ll move over as soon as I can,

and the truck will zip by us. He’s being an asshole riding our
tail like this, but I’ve got it under control.”

He nodded tightly, seeming to understand my

explanation, but didn’t loosen his grip. I realized that if I had
been in his place, I would have been just as frightened. We
were traveling over seventy miles an hour by now, and the
truck was still pretty close, although not right behind us
anymore. I relaxed as I pulled into the right lane and slowed
down to my original speed. “Okay, Thomas, we’re all set.” We
both watched the eighteen-wheeler roar past us, closing in
on his next victim.

“What was that thing? It’s huge and very loud.”
“It’s called an eighteen-wheeler truck, and it carries lots

of products from place to place, like from a big, centralized
building that stocks lots of products—which we call a

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distribution center—to all the stores in a particular area.
There are a lot of trucks carrying all kinds of stuff at all
times of the day and night. So do trains, actually.”

Thomas eventually relaxed again, and I explained a little

bit more. We chatted for a while about the issues around
using “petrol,” and how prices were rising as we were held
hostage by other countries. It was obvious that Thomas was
very smart, and he asked intelligent questions. The mystery
of the Bic pen was solved when he told me that he had
visited the United States back in 1980, and had bought a
box of them because they were so useful. “And they fit in my
pocket.” I couldn’t help chuckling at that, and he smiled
back at me. I tried to ignore the little flutter in my stomach.
God, no, Wallace. Don’t you dare go there! He’s leaving

tomorrow, and yes, he’s flipping your gaydar, but you don’t

know anything about him. He’s probably married with a slew
of kids. Victorian times, remember?

We made it back to my house without further incident,

and I sighed in relief at seeing my home. I was tired, and
having Thomas there was keeping me on my toes trying to
explain everything he questioned. When I turned left into my
driveway and pushed the button to open the garage, he
leaned forward in confusion.

“Where are we? I thought you were going to take me to a

hotel, Wallace?”

“This is my house. I have an extra bedroom and I

thought you could stay here tonight. That way it won’t cost
you anything. And I have to eat, so I might as well feed you
too.” I pulled into the garage and shut the door behind me.
Leaning back in the seat, I watched him for a minute. “I hope
you don’t mind, but it’s been a long, bad day, and I’m too
tired to try to figure out how to exchange gold for money.”

Thomas stiffened in his seat, facing the front of the car.

“Wallace, I don’t want to inconvenience you and add to your

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bad experiences today. Please don’t feel obligated to take
care of me.” Oh shit.

“No, Thomas. I’m sorry, that came out wrong. I had a

challenging group of handicapped kids in today, and one of
the boys almost burned himself on the lye when trying to
make soap. They were very restless and didn’t all have the
fine motor skills needed to do things like quilting, so we were
rushing around trying to keep everyone busy and out of
trouble. And it took longer to clean up, since one of the staff
members had to leave early and the kids were messier than
normal.”

“Can I assume handicapped means that they were

crippled?”

“Yes, but it’s impolite now to call them crippled. And

some had mental handicaps, like being a little slow.”

“Oh.” He thought for a minute, then said, “I’m not

convinced ‘handicapped’ is all that better a term than
‘crippled’.”

I couldn’t help laughing at that. He was quite right, and

it was something that I had always thought too. “Anyway,
you’re turning out to be one of the better experiences of the
day. Please, let me invite you to stay with me tonight. I’ll
cook a simple meal, and we can figure out what to do
tomorrow. I have the day off, so I can help you.” Oh shit. Ah,

you’ve done it now, Wallace. Just jump right in there, why
don’t you?
But then I figured, why not? It would be

interesting to hear about his stories, as I was hoping he had
gone to some interesting places and periods. Frankly, I was
fascinated, since I had always loved science fiction and
fantasy.

Thomas seemed genuinely nice, and I felt like I could

trust him. I wasn’t sure why, but he did appear to be honest,
if a little ditzy. Like immediately trying out his fixed machine
before making definitive plans to keep himself safe. I was
having second thoughts about Thomas having a family who

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cared about him. I just couldn’t imagine hopping off to 2070
or 1860 without some safeguards in place, like letting my
family know what I was doing and when I’d be back. Maybe
even bringing one of my three brothers along for company.

Perhaps a little wine would let him unwind enough to

tell me some details of his home life. Being gay and out from
my early teens, I prided myself on my excellent gaydar, and
Thomas was ringing the bell loud and clear. But I didn’t
think I should bring it up unless he let something slip. If I
remembered my history correctly, being homosexual back in
Victorian times was dangerous, and they were so repressed
back then that I was very thankful I lived in the present,
where it was mostly accepted.

As we walked into the kitchen, I was frantically trying to

remember if there was anything lying around that would
label me as gay or be in bad taste. I took Thomas’s jacket to
hang up on a hook in the hall, and raced into the living room
before him to check the coffee table and make sure I had put
the porn disc back from last night. I hadn’t, so I snatched it
up and shoved the empty cover onto the shelf with the other
DVDs. Checking behind me, I realized Thomas was still in
the kitchen. I headed back there, wondering what he was
doing. I also really wanted my wine; I mean, shit. How often
do you meet someone from 1860?

Thomas looked up as I came back in. He was feeling the

brushed metal of the refrigerator door with one hand while
he checked out the inside by moving his other hand around
in the escaping chilled air. He then opened the freezer on the
bottom and exclaimed at the temperature, pulling out boxes
and bags to see what was stored in there. I shook my head,
accepting the fact that it was going to be a long evening.

I answered questions as well as I could while I worked

around him and took out the makings for sandwiches and a
bottle of wine. Putting everything on the table, I called for
Thomas to come join me, pulling him away from examining
the electric can opener and puzzling over the microwave.

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“This room is very interesting. What is this called?” he

asked, pointing to the microwave.

“It’s a microwave oven. I’ll show you what it does after

we eat, okay?” I couldn’t wait to demonstrate how that
worked, although I would have to admit I had no idea what
the science was behind it, except that it had come out of the
NASA space program. I wondered if he knew about that.
Thomas was obviously hungry as he sat down immediately
and watched as I created my sandwich, then happily made
his own.

We ate quickly, and we then experimented with which

ice cream flavor was the best, since he had been fascinated
with the freezer. I gave him several ice cream flavors for
dessert, and we both agreed on the toffee-coffee flavor as the
most delicious. He watched carefully as I put the dishes in
the dishwasher, explaining how it worked, or at least what
little I knew, as I was not some mechanically inclined genius.
I just knew that it rinsed, washed, and rinsed again, and
voila, you had clean dishes. I heated up some water for him

in the microwave so he could have some tea, and he was
totally amazed.

We moved into my living room, and I stopped him before

he sat down on the couch. “Listen, Thomas, before you get
too relaxed, let me show you where your room is. I want to
go change into something more comfortable for the rest of
the evening. Do you want some other clothes to wear
tonight?”

“Perhaps to sleep in. And please, where is your lavatory,

Wallace?”

I quickly showed him the bathroom and then headed

upstairs to see what I could loan him. I remembered a story I
had read that took place during that time period and
wondered if he was expecting some kind of nightshirt. Since I
slept nude, that wasn’t happening, but maybe he could wear
a T-shirt and boxers to sleep in, and some sweats for the rest
of the evening, since that was what I planned to put on.

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When I heard him exit the bathroom, I yelled down for him to
come upstairs and I pointed out the guest room, where he
took off his tie and vest.

“I’ll be right back,” I said as I entered my room across

the hall and grabbed a clean T-shirt and some sweatpants
for him. Shutting the door a bit, I slipped into mine and took
his over to him, but he declined to wear them until he went
to bed. Shrugging, I suggested we go back downstairs.

I finished my wine as I turned on the TV, but had to

wait to refill it until I had gone through all the channels and
shown him the guide. I explained the remote control and let
him play with it while I went for the rest of the wine. We had
to go through the channels about five times before we settled
on a movie that was just starting. He had seen televisions
back in the 1980s, so it wasn’t totally new. I figured if he was
amazed by my time, the gadgets used in Star Wars would
blow him away. Yeah, okay, probably not fair of me, but I
wanted to watch his reactions. He didn’t disappoint, but I
finally got tired of saying, “I don’t know,” or “I’m not really
sure.” And I just didn’t have the energy to go get my laptop
so we could look it up, because I figured it would just open
up a whole other can of worms and we would be there all
night.

“Thomas, remember this is science fiction. Yes, we can

fly into space now, but there aren’t other species out there
that we know of yet. I don’t know how anything works,
because most of it is made up, and I’m not a genius physicist
like you.” It took a while, but Thomas finally relaxed and
enjoyed the story for what it was.

“Wouldn’t it have all been easier if they had my time

machine?”

I couldn’t help laughing in agreement. “Much. But then

you wouldn’t have been able to watch such a great story.
Nothing bad would have happened because they could go fix
everything. I think. Though I think that would get really

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confusing, trying to keep track of all the events and what you
wanted to change and what you didn’t. Can you just jump
like five minutes ahead or behind and go anywhere you
want?”

“No, not quite. It works best over long distances. So I

can go whenever and wherever I want, but it would be a
waste of energy to just try to move such a small increment,
and probably more dangerous.”

“Tell me about your first trip, which I assume was to

1980?”

“Yes, that’s correct. This is only my second one.”
“How were you able to get around and not cause any

trouble? I mean, you must have been overwhelmed with all
the changes, and you were dressed similar to what you wore
tonight, right? Where did you go?”

“I landed in Central Park in New York City. I spent one

night and most of the next day wandering around and
looking in stores, and found an antiques dealer who was
willing to buy my gold. I was very fortunate and arrived on
October 31, which apparently is when many people dress up
in costumes, so I didn’t look too out of place.”

“I can see how that would have worked, I guess. But

weren’t you curious about everything, and how it all worked,
and about all the new technology and stuff?”

“Yes, horribly curious. I talked to some of the clerks in

the stores I entered, but didn’t want to ask too many
questions. I bought a few things to take home with me, like
my pens, but nothing that was technical, just in case I was
discovered once I was back home.”

“How long ago was this?”
“Last week. When I arrived home again, I stumbled and

dropped my time machine onto my desk. It wasn’t a long fall,
but there was still some damage that took me a while to fix,
since I had to recreate one of the gears. I also had some

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meetings and a weekend with my family to get through
before I had enough free time to attempt another journey.”

“Can I see the machine now?”
Thomas walked over to his jacket and pulled out what

looked like a large pocket watch. Cradling it in his hand, he
came back to the couch and sat next to me. My eyes widened
at the instrument as he opened the case, which looked like it
was made of gold. It was incredibly complex, with lots of little
pieces intricately connected, and he showed me how he
would raise a particular section on top to set the date, time,
and longitude and latitude by moving numbers on some type
of cylinder. I had no clue how it could make someone jump
to some other time, and he tried to explain about how time
and space worked and all this other stuff that went straight
over my head. He finally stopped in exasperation because I
had obviously given up even trying to understand, just
looking at him with glazed eyes.

Shaking my head, I said, “Thomas, I believe you when

you say it works. After all, you’re here and your gold is all
from the late 1800s, and your clothes are straight from that
time period.” He almost looked affectionate as he grinned at
me, giving in with good grace.

“Very well. I will stop trying to instruct you in the finer

points of physics. After all, it took me over fifteen years to
learn it. I supposed it’s a bit much to expect you to
understand it in one evening.”

“Thank you. Who else knows about your time machine?”
“I haven’t told anyone yet. You’re the only one who has

seen it besides me.”

Stretching, he leaned back as his arms reached above

his head and he gave a big yawn. “Excuse me, Wallace. If
you don’t mind, I am quite tired and think I will retire for the
evening.”

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POP Goes the Time Traveler * Jonathan Treadway

18

“Good idea. Come on, I’m ready to go to bed too.” When I

asked him if he wanted a shower, he agreed eagerly, so it
wasn’t long before I had shown him the shower workings and
left him to do what he wanted. After a quick shower myself, I
crawled into bed and fell asleep almost immediately. A gentle
knocking woke me up several hours later.

“Wallace? Wallace, are you awake?” I blinked my eyes

several times to confirm that I was in my own room, but it
took a couple of minutes to remember my adventures from
earlier that evening and why there was a strange man in my
house. Oh, Thomas, from 1860s London via a time machine.

Yep, I am totally nuts….

“Yes, Thomas? Is something wrong?” My voice was gruff

from sleep. I leaned up on my arm to look over at him then
turned on my bedside light so I could see him better. It
looked like he had a book or something in his hand, which
he was holding out toward me.

“I am sorry for waking you, but I could not sleep and

was looking through your bookshelves. Could you please
explain how these disks work?” I glanced at what he held out
to show me, and immediately blushed. It was a gay romance
called Is It Just Me? There were three men on the cover, and

it was fairly obvious that they were after each other. At least
it wasn’t gay porn, although I shuddered as I realized that
there was plenty of that on the same shelf.

“Are you sure you want to watch that? It’s a love story

between men.” I decided that honesty was the best policy.
Besides, maybe this would answer my question. He was
looking very delectable in the T-shirt and sweats, which
showed off his surprisingly nice body. His hair was tousled,
and I admitted to myself that he was quite good-looking, and
I wouldn’t mind having him in my bed to explore with my
hands and mouth….

“Yes, I know.” It was his turn to look a bit embarrassed,

his face flushing a little. “Since most of your disks seem to

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POP Goes the Time Traveler * Jonathan Treadway

19

be about men being together romantically, I am making the
assumption that you are homosexual.”

I nodded. “Yes, I am. We call it being gay in this century.

Are you gay too?”

Thomas nodded slowly. “Yes, I am a homosexual, but

nobody but you knows this. I cannot risk this information
getting out at home or my life will be in danger.”

“I won’t tell anyone, I promise, Thomas. Although I

doubt I’d ever be back in Victorian London, anyways, so I
think your secret is safe with me. C’mon, I’ll show you how
the DVD player works.”

“DVD?”
“Yeah, I think it stands for Digital Video Disc or

something like that. They’ve replaced the videotapes you
probably saw back in the eighties.” He nodded as I climbed
out of bed, by this time wide awake, and slipped on my
sweats and a T-shirt over my nakedness. I turned my back
to Thomas so I was being somewhat modest, but when I
swung back around, he wrenched his eyes away from my
butt and quickly headed back into the living room. Smirking,
I followed him and put the disk into the player. After
showing Thomas how the remote worked, I hit play and
came back to the couch. It was too good an opportunity to
get to know Thomas better and maybe lead us back to my
bed, so I decided to stay and watch the movie with him.
Besides, I had only seen it once and it was a good story.

Nothing much happened while the movie played, but

when I leaned my head against his shoulder, pretending to
doze a bit, he didn’t move away or push me back. I took that
as a good sign. At the end, after I turned everything off, I
looked over to Thomas, who was looking a little sad.

“What’s wrong, Thomas? It was a happy ending.”

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POP Goes the Time Traveler * Jonathan Treadway

20

“Yes, I liked it quite a bit. But I wish that I had the same

opportunities to find a real partner, like they did. Although I
must say, I believe they did it the hard way.”

“That’s for sure! I would never want my friend to stand

in for me, especially when we’re such different people like
they are in the movie. I would have just explained what
happened, and if it didn’t work out, oh well.”

“Yes, I totally agree. Being straightforward is usually the

best plan,” Thomas said as he looked down at his hands and
sighed. I decided to take a risk, hoping against hope that the
answer would be no.

“Is there someone special back home in London?”
“No. I have always been too afraid to approach someone,

in case I was discovered or chose wrong. My parents would
disown me and cut off my income, which wouldn’t allow me
to do the inventing and tinkering that I love.”

“That must be kind of tough. Have you had any lovers at

all? Or try one of those special houses that I’ve read about in
stories where it was just gay men allowed?”

“No one. I went once to a molly house, trying to be brave

enough to enter, but when I saw the place, I just turned
around and went back home.” He shook his head, looking
ashamed and embarrassed. “I am a coward and haven’t
experienced anything with a man. Or a woman. I didn’t want
to pay for services, and I just do not have enough desire to
try with a woman….”

“Well, that’s not unusual. I’ve never been with a woman,

either, and definitely don’t want to sleep with one. I have no
interest at all in any female parts,” I said, shuddering at the
thought.

Thomas grinned self-consciously. “Neither do I.”
I looked at Thomas, casting my eyes over his body and

focusing on his crotch, which was slowly growing as I
watched. He watched me closely, but made no attempt to

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POP Goes the Time Traveler * Jonathan Treadway

21

move or make me stop. “Are you attracted to me at all?” I
asked. “’Cause I think you’re gorgeous, and I would love to
show you what two men can do together, if you’re
interested.”

Thomas lurched forward and grabbed my shoulders,

trying to kiss me as he pulled me in. I reached my hands up
to cup his face as I pulled back from the prim, closed-mouth
kiss. Thomas actually whimpered as I moved my head back,
but I tilted his head slightly to the left and went back in for
another kiss, moving my lips over his. He slowly opened up
as my tongue gently touched his mouth and rubbed over his
soft lips. I slipped my tongue in and swept it around his
mouth, pressing harder and holding his head in place. We
kept at it, experimenting with different movements,
eventually moving down onto the couch with Thomas on top
of me. He was going wild, grinding his hard cock against
mine and making delicious noises.

I finally had to pull away and gasp for breath. “C’mon,

let’s go to my bed. We’ll be more comfortable.” Thomas sat
up then let me up, and I grabbed his hand as we ran
upstairs. “You still okay with this?” I asked as I walked into
the bedroom.

“Yes, don’t stop now!” he said as he reached for my T-

shirt to pull it up and off. “You’re beautiful, Wallace.”
Thomas moved his fingers gently over my chest and
stomach, feeling my skin and the lightly sprinkled hair over
my pecs. I shivered with the feeling as my cock got even
harder.

“Lick and suck my nipples,” I begged as I pulled off my

sweats and stood naked in front of him. He stepped closer
and leaned to run his tongue over one then the other,
making them wet and blowing on them. He rubbed them
gently as they stiffened, and I could feel the zing in my cock,
which was starting to leak a little. His hand reached down
and grabbed my penis, and I involuntarily pushed into his
fist. “Oh God, that feels so good.” I tried to kiss him again,

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POP Goes the Time Traveler * Jonathan Treadway

22

but he was watching his hand rub up and down my cock
and looking a little awed.

“You need to get naked too,” I said as I reached over and

took off his clothes. I had to go through way too many layers
to finally find his skin, as he still had on his own underwear.
Holding his biceps, I admired his body. “Wow, Thomas,
you’re gorgeous too.” He smiled at me, looking shy but
proud. He might have been a geeky scientist, but his body
defied the stereotype. He was perfectly proportioned, with a
hard body that had been created from work, not working
out. Although I briefly wondered if there were even any kind
of gyms back then, my mind came back to the present as I
rubbed my hands and lips all over his hairy chest. His uncut
penis was just a little longer than average, but nice and
thick, and I couldn’t wait to feel it inside me. I pulled him
tightly against me and kissed him again, both of us opening
up and making a wet mess as we fiercely melded our
mouths. One of my hands was holding the back of his head,
grabbing his thick hair while the other reached down for his
heavy cock, squeezing it tight and pulling it, spreading the
precum around the head.

I pushed us over to the bed and pulled Thomas on top of

me again. “I’m going to let you fuck me, Thomas, since I’m
more experienced, okay? I like both topping and bottoming.”
He thought for a second and nodded, obviously getting the
reference.

“Please, Wallace. I’m so close to exploding, but I don’t

know what to do.” He was rolling my balls in their sac and
kissing and licking my prick. He sure is a fast learner.

“It’s easy, sweetie. You just have to stretch my anus so

that you’ll fit. You’re nice and thick, so you’ll probably have
to use three fingers. Here, I’ll show you.” I pulled out the
lube and condom, sliding it over his reddened and very
swollen dick. Might as well teach him safety first if he was
going to keep popping back and forth, and I explained a little
bit about some of the diseases around in the twenty-first

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POP Goes the Time Traveler * Jonathan Treadway

23

century as I rolled it down. “Don’t worry; just wear a condom
all the time and you’ll be fine,” I tried to reassure him as I
caressed his cock. “Okay, now here’s the lube. Squeeze some
onto your fingers and rub it over my hole. You can slowly
start pushing some of the lube in with one of your fingers.” I
let him experiment for a few minutes, then grabbed some
lube too and added one of my fingers to show him how I did
it, since he was somewhat tentative. I couldn’t help moaning;
it had been a while since I last bottomed. It felt so good. I
showed him where my prostate was and explained about it
and how good it felt when his cock ran back and forth on it.

“Okay, honey. Now push in slowly, and stop when I ask

so I can get used to it. That way it won’t hurt.” Thomas was
amazing and did just what I asked. Within a few minutes, he
was thrusting hard, groaning at how good it felt, and I was
pushing back and saying “Yes, yes, yes” under my breath in
rhythm with him. His strong strokes were pushing me up on
the bed, and I finally grasped the headboard to keep myself
in place and thrust back hard. I wanted him in as far as he
could go, it was so good. His thick cock rubbed all the right
places coming and going.

“You are so tight, Wallace. This feels so wonderful; I

can’t believe I waited so long to try this. What was I
thinking? I’m in such heaven.” Thomas finally stopped
babbling as he struggled for breath, working hard to please
both of us.

“Oh, fuck, I’m coming!” I shouted, reaching up to grab

his shoulders and hug him tight as my cock exploded all
over both of us. “Ah, ah, shit, so good,” I mumbled as I tried
to kiss him. His head was moving down toward my neck,
though, as he groaned from his toes and stilled. I could feel
his penis pulsing inside and wished I could feel his semen
shooting up into me. He shuddered a couple of times and
thrust through his climax, then collapsed onto my chest,
gasping hard. He felt wonderful on me, not too heavy but
making me feel safe and cared for. I wrapped my arms

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POP Goes the Time Traveler * Jonathan Treadway

24

around his back, hugging tight. He rolled us over to our
sides, moving his arms around me too and squeezing back.

“Wow, Thomas. That was amazing.”
He lifted his head and gazed at me, grinning hard. “We

have to do that again. Very, very soon.”

“Shit, yes! That was the best sex I’ve had in… ever, I

think.” I lifted my head and kissed him, feeling him push
aggressively into my mouth and take control. I had a feeling
that I would be giving up control a lot, as his confidence was
definitely back. I melted into him, madly planning how to
change his mind about going back tomorrow.

We spent most of the next day in bed, making love or

watching movies. Thomas never bottomed, but I didn’t care.
Not only did we fuck, but I taught him how I liked my cock
sucked, and he learned to sixty-nine. I ordered pizza for
lunch, and we shared a pepperoni and olive one with some
beer in the late afternoon. Thomas decided he loved pizza,
and I promised I’d take him to the store next time so he
could see it being made.

After lunch and a last bout of sex, we were cleaned up

and sitting on the living room couch. Thomas was back in
his Victorian clothing, and I could tell he was reluctant to
leave. “Are you sure you have to go back? Can’t you just set
the locator-time thing so that you’re only gone for an hour or
two from London?” I asked, leaning against him and batting
my eyelashes, trying to look so adorable he wouldn’t want to
go anywhere except back to bed.

“I don’t have fine enough control to attempt that yet,

although I am working on it. That’s my next project, to fine-
tune the cylinders enough to set an actual time.” He gently
rolled the time machine back and forth in his hands, looking
pensive. “I do want to stay, Wallace, but I need to get back.
My family is coming for dinner tomorrow night. I have to be
sure the staff is doing what we planned, and I have several
business issues I need to take care of with my father the

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POP Goes the Time Traveler * Jonathan Treadway

25

next day.” Thomas stood up abruptly, as though he had
finally made up his mind and was moving full steam ahead. I
stood too, hoping to get a final make-out session before he
left.

“When will you come back, Thomas? I want to see you

again, and get to know you better. If you want that, of
course.” I wanted it more than anything. My eyes were down,
looking at the floor. I wouldn’t be able to handle seeing any
expression that indicated he didn’t have any more interest in
me now that he had some experience under his belt. Oh
geez, Wallace, that was bad.
I felt like we had grown

amazingly close over the last eighteen hours or so, and I
knew I was going to miss him when he left. He pulled me
into a tender kiss and then hugged me against him, not
letting me escape. Like I wanted to… NOT!

“Wallace, I have never felt like this about anyone. Of

course I’m coming back, just as soon as I can manage it.
Once the family dinner and my business is over, I can
disappear for almost a month before they come back and
check on me again.”

“Don’t you have any friends that will miss you if you’re

gone that long?”

“Yes, but I’ll tell them I’m going to be traveling so they

won’t expect me back for a while. I won’t even be lying about
it. I’m not a known socialite, anyway; I tend to prefer staying
home with a few good friends and enjoying their company
over a nice dinner and some port. Many of them are as
socially backwards as I am.”

“That’s not backwards, honey. That’s just being social in

a different way. I would imagine all the fancy balls that we
keep hearing about would be tedious, especially since you
aren’t interested in the women.”

“That’s very true. And most of my friends feel the same

way, I believe. I don’t get very many invitations, since most
people know I will likely turn them down. I can’t always do

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POP Goes the Time Traveler * Jonathan Treadway

26

that, of course, but I try to get away with it as much as
possible. I must admit I encourage my reputation as a
somewhat eccentric scientist so that I can avoid those
tedious parties.”

I sighed as I lay my head on Thomas’s shoulder. It felt

so natural to be in his arms, and I really didn’t want him to
leave. He kissed my head and leaned against me, holding me
close.

“I will miss you, Wallace.”
“I’ll miss you too, Thomas. You didn’t say when you’ll be

back.”

“I’ll try to time it for two days hence, in the same place

at the same time? Will you be working that day?”

“Yes, although I don’t usually stay that late. Can you

come earlier, like around five thirty? Everyone will be gone
by then, and I can just read in my car until you pop in.” I
grinned at him, remembering his spectacular entrance
yesterday. He smiled back, his eyes lighting in amusement.
We had had a good laugh over that this morning.

“Good, that way I won’t knock you down again.”
“You can knock me down anytime. Especially onto the

bed.”

Thomas laughed softly then kissed me again, holding

my head this time and pressing so hard, I knew I would feel
it the next day. My butt was already remembering him, not
that I minded. I kissed back just as hard, loving his taste
and unique smell and committing it to memory. It would
have to hold me until he was back into my arms.

“You can leave from here, right?”
“Yes. Maybe the next time I can try to arrive in your

house rather than the Bradford House. It would be less
dangerous.”

“That would be great. Then you could pop in whenever

you had some free time.”

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POP Goes the Time Traveler * Jonathan Treadway

27

“Maybe someday I won’t leave.”
“That sounds promising. Let’s give it time to see how it

goes, but so far, that’s not scaring me at all.”

He hugged me close one more time, pecked me on the

lips, then moved into the middle of the living room.
“Goodbye, Wallace. I will see you in two days.”

“Bye, Thomas. Hurry back.”
He waved, opened his time machine and set the dials,

then disappeared silently and completely. It was the
strangest thing; here one second and gone the next. I knew I
was going to worry that he got home okay, but was looking
forward to seeing him on Monday and hearing more of his
stories. With his time contraption, time was not going to be
an issue. I couldn’t wait to start more adventures with him,
both past and present.

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Get the whole package at

http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com

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About the Author

J

ONATHAN

T

READWAY

is the pseudonym of Jennifer Tilt,

who lives with her family in northern Massachusetts, very
close to New Hampshire. Jen has a professional job doing
market analysis during the day and writes in the evenings
and on weekends whenever she can. Her stories focus on the
romance between two men and all the trials gay men have to
survive in order to have a healthy, happily-ever-after (or for
now) relationship. To her there’s nothing sexier than two
men exploring each other physically and emotionally as they
fall in love.

When Jen’s not writing, she may be trying to relearn how to
play her recorders; planning designs and buying supplies for
an endless number of quilts (although actually putting them
together seems to be a bit slower); or reading any M/M story
she can get her hands on—anything to avoid housework. In
addition to her human family, Jen also has a pushy rabbit
named Annabelle.

Visit her website at

http://www.jtreadway.com

and blog at

http://jontreadway.wordpress.com

.

You can e-mail Jen at

jonathan@jtreadway.com

.

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More Daily Dose and Advent Calendar packages

http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com

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Copyright
























POP Goes the Time Traveler ©Copyright Jonathan Treadway, 2012

Published by
Dreamspinner Press
4760 Preston Road
Suite 244-149
Frisco, TX 75034

http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the
authors’ imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead,
business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Cover Art by Catt Ford

This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is
illegal and a violation of International Copyright Law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon
conviction, fines, and/or imprisonment. This eBook cannot be legally loaned or given to others. No
part of this eBook can be shared or reproduced without the express permission of the Publisher. To
request permission and all other inquiries, contact Dreamspinner Press at: 4760 Preston Road, Suite
244-149, Frisco, TX 75034

http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/

Released in the United States of America
June 2012

eBook Edition
eBook ISBN: 978-1-61372-642-6


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