It was a very adult evening. I was relaxing with a glass of wine and a non-fiction book. Very civilized. But somehow unsatisfying. The night sky was calling. Instead of taking my lawn chair and another glass outside to stare at the stars I put on my helmet and shoes and boarded my time machine. As I left the driveway, the machine started to work its magic. The only sound I could here was the whoosh of my tires on the pavement and the only sight I could see were the stars above. I clicked into a lower gear and sped up, feeling younger already. As I rolled on into the past, the road dipped into dry creek beds and rose onto little crests and the abrupt temperature change helped me to escape my adult body. I started to remember a turnout I had visited in high school, off the side of a long deserted road, and that became my destination. On the way there, I slipped farther back.
It was dark. There were monsters on the side of the road. My shifters were the edge of my vision, except for the occasional oak tree looming up out of the night. Anything could be lurking on the side of the road. The only civilization was the gently lit houses set well back from the road. I started to hear the rustling of the night creatures. How big were they? Could I out sprint them? (unlikely) I thought of how my mom used to point out the constellations in the sky and looked up to find familiar patterns. As I was looking up, my time machine malfunctioned and I slipped back into the deep, deep past.
The monsters on the side of the road weren't modern imaginations, there was only one monster. The father of all monsters, Typhon. He was in the blackberry bushes, waiting for me, a giant, with two coiled pythons for legs and fire-breathing dragons for fingers. There was no way a puny cyclist could escape. I got into my big ring and pedaled harder, hoping to get away before he noticed me. I looked to the stars again, trying to find comfort and return to the present. All I saw were the ravages of Typhon. I saw the familiar V of Pisces, but that was just Aphrodite and her son Eros turned into fishes while trying to escape Typhon. They offered no comfort or escape. I tried to find solace in my constellation, Capricorn. Only that was another reminder of the danger of Typhon, as Pan became the sea-goat while trying to escape Typhon in a river. Because he was panicked, he got confused and turned his bottom half into a fish and his top half into a goat. Desperate, I searched for something familiar that would help me to escape this terrifying world of mythology. I saw a flash of yellow on the side of the road, Typhon's eye! He had caught up with me at last, I had no choice but to confront him. As I rushed by, prepared to be burnt to a cinder, I peeked out of the corner of my eye and it was a reflector. Whew. My time machine clicked back to the semi-present.
I started to climb. Gently. The road was patched and bumpy, but the asphalt comfortably reminded me of the era I was living in. Finally, I arrived at the dirt turnout that had been my destination. The view was incredible. Any small rise in the foothills gives an advantage over miles and miles of rolling hills. I heard cars in the distance rushing by, but couldn't see them. I thought of the cozy yellow-lit houses, but couldn't see them. There was almost no light pollution and the night sky lit up in a thousand tiny fires. The Milky Way spread from horizon to horizon and I felt I could jump right into it. I heard The Pixies line, with your feet on the air and your head on the ground. I had traveled to a time without civilization. There was nothing but me, my time machine and the sky. I breathed deeply.
As I rode back, I spun gently toward adulthood. I longed to be in my own yellow-lit house, finishing up my book and sipping my wine. I started to worry about if I got a flat. The rustling in the bushes wasn't a ferocious monster, but deer eating the last of shriveled blackberries. But I accepted this intrusion of reality, because I knew the next time the present pushed too hard, I only had to jump on my time machine and spin.
