The Very Fabric of Space and Time

Josh leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.  Just a few minutes more, and another boring week at the bank would end.  Life as customer service representative wasn’t terribly glamorous, and opening accounts wasn’t exciting, but the job was alright and it paid the bills.  Fridays tended to be hectic because it was payday for most people, but Josh often welcomed the hustle.  Being busy seemed to make the day go faster, and the weekend start sooner.  “Happy hour, here I come” he mumbled.  He sat forward and glanced at the clock in the corner of his screen.  4:58. 

            “Hey Josh, any big plans for tonight?” Angela called out from behind the main counter.  She was a relatively new employee, a teller who had started only a few months before. 

            “Probably down to the Skippack Pub for a few beers.”

            “Maybe I’ll see you there.”

            “Sure.  Sounds great” Josh smiled.  The weekend was looking good already.  He began to shut down his computer.

Clunk.  Clunk.  Clunk.  The door opened and a sound of heavy footstep followed

            Oh no.  Josh focused on the computer screen.  That dreaded last minute customer.  He didn’t want to look up.  Please, please just cash your paycheck and leave, he thought.  I don’t want to stay here.  The footsteps continued, paused briefly, then took a turn from the counter towards Josh’s desk.  He sighed and his shoulders slumped.  Hopefully this would be an easy question and Josh could get on to happy hour as soon as possible.  He stood up and came around the desk, extending his hand.  “Hi, my name is Josh, how can I . . . “ the standard greeting died on Josh’s lips as he finally looked up at his newest customer.  He was a old man, dressed in blue overalls, red flannel shirt, and a huge, battered straw hat.  The clothes looked very old and faded, but were scrupulously clean.  The man had an enormous gray beard and one tooth.  The portions of his face not covered by beard were wrinkled and tanned to leather by the sun.  He stared at Josh, his left eye open wide and his right squinted nearly shut. 

            “Hi there sonny!  Grover Cleveland Alexander is my name.  I reckon I’d like to open an account or some such thing here.”  The man took Josh’s outstretched hand and shook it three times.  His hand felt like it was made of stone and the strength of his grip made Josh wince. 

            “Alright sir but. . .”

            “I do believe it’s about time to trust the banks again.  Ever since the crash in 29 I’ve been keeping my savings buried in mason jars in the hollow by the pin oaks.” Grover kept his single digit grin and right eye opened up while his left slammed shut.  “I reckon it’s safe to tell you that know.  I got those jars dug up.  Got my ole mule Bessie all loaded up outside, with all them jars.”

            “Umm, mule?”

            “Thank you son, I really appreciate your help”

            “Sir, do you realize we’re closing?  It’s five o’clock.”

            “Nonsense! It’s only four!” Grover pulled a huge steel watch out of the pocket of his overalls. “I never forget to wind my timepiece!”

            “Actually Daylight Saving Time was last week, all the clocks went forward an hour. You know, spring forward, fall back . . .” Josh trailed away as the old man’s lips pursed together and both eyes squinted. 

            “What!  You can’t jump aroundin time!  Impossible!”

            “We’re not really moving back and forth in time, everybody just changes their watches.”

            “Well, I certainly don’t.  I don’t cotton to any of these new fangled ideas.  What happened to that hour I’ve lost?  Where was I then?  Where am I now?  When am I now?”  Grover began to pace back and forth, chewing on the brim of his hat.  Josh was baffled.

            “It’s just how it is sir.  You didn’t go anywhere for that hour.  It’s like banking hours.  Since it’s after three pm, the bank switches to the next business day.  Anything we do now technically happens on Monday.”

            “What!” Grover sat down heavily and grabbed the desk with both hands. “I walk in here on Friday and now it’s Monday?” 

            “It’s not really Monday, it’s just Monday’s business day.  Today is still Friday.”

Grover began to sweat and both eyes popped open. “Monday or Friday?  I don’t know anymore.  I reckon I better not move.  What happens when I walk out of here?  It’s Monday already, maybe I’ll walk out into the year 3000!  Everyone will have flying cars!  What can I do?” Grover put his head in his hands and began to cry.  Josh took a deep breath and rolled his eyes, looking out the front window.  Grover’s mule stared back, patiently awaiting his time traveling owner.