Tom and Tommy
What if a candy bar could decide your future? What if you could travel through time to tell yourself that?
“Just stuff it in your pocket! What’s the big deal, it’s just some candy,” TJ urged.
“Yeah, let’s get out of here!” whispered Marcus, handing the crisp bar to Tommy O’Neill. With just another moment’s hesitation, he crammed it into his jeans and the three friends sneaked past Mr. Henderson to the safety of the street. A quick sprint home in glee left them free and clear, and Tommy went inside to enjoy his prize.
He jogged up to his room, chuckling to himself and pulling the chocolate free. For just a moment, a dark, uncertain look clouded his face, then a bright flash lit the room with a sizzling light, causing Tommy to jump back in shock.
As the spots cleared from his eyes, Tommy saw that a man had appeared in his room who looked remarkably like his dad but with mussed hair, wrinkled clothes, and red-rimmed eyes. “Who are you?” Tommy stammered.
“I’m you,” the man replied.
For a breath of time, Tommy stared, dumbstruck, blinking as if this would make the vision go away. “You can call me Tom, everyone does now...well, like, in the future or whatever” the man continued. “I bet you’re wondering why I’m here. I’m here to tell you...wait, what was it? Or right, don’t eat the candy bar.”
Tommy stared in alarm at this slob of a man who claimed to be his future self. Trying to play it cool, he said “Yeah, right, because time travel is totally possible. You’re probably just a robber or something trying to trick me.”
“Oh, right, yeah, I’m supposed to show you proof,” Tom said, producing from his pocket a small stuffed octopus, with two mismatched button eyes. Tommy’s eyes flew wide as he edged to his nightstand, producing from within a nearly identical, though slightly less worn, version of his own. “You’ll want to hold onto that,” said Tom, “for, you know, when you come back to see you. Course you will, I mean cause I’ve still got it, right?”
“Okay,” said Tommy with a sneer, flopping down on his bed, “so you’re not a robber. I still don’t see why I shouldn’t eat this candy bar. I mean, I’ve got it, so what else am I going to do with it.”
“That’s a good point. Crisp bars are the bomb,” replied Tom, sitting down next to his younger self, “But, there are other options.”
“Like what?” Tommy asked defiantly.
“Well, just spit-balling here, but you could take it back.”
“No way, Mr. Henderson would yell at me and call my parents and I’d get grounded for like a month.”
“Yeah,” agreed Tom, “that’ll probably happen. He might even try to hit you with his shoe.”
“Plus,” continued Tommy, really getting a head of steam now, “TJ and Marcus will hate me forever for ratting on them. They’d never talk to me again, and then I would have no friends. I’d be an outcast for life.”
Tom nodded, “Yep, that could happen, too.”
“Wait, how do you not know what’s going to happen,” asked Tommy, incredulously.
“Oh, no, I know what happened to me, and it’s not pretty,” said Tom, “But, then, I ate the candy bar. Took the easy way out. It was fine for a while, really great actually. But man, in the end I ended up doing things I wish I hadn’t done. It all started out not so bad, but things go from bad to worse, my friend. You got to do what’s right all the time, even when it seems like it’s nothing. That’s when you show who you really are.”
Tommy stared at his knees, brooding over his fate. “I know!” he said, cheering up slightly, “You could do it for me. You could say you were my dad, or whatever, and give it back for me!”
Tom shook his head. “No can do. You have to do this yourself.”
“But you are me, so, really, I would be the one doing it.”
“But I don’t exist yet. I only might be you, depending on what you decide today.”
Tommy’s mouth dropped open. “You mean, today decides my whole future?” he said, aghast.
“Every day decides your future,” replied Tom, “Every day you get to decide who you are going to be by what you choose to do. So, who are you, Tommy O’Neill?”
With that, Tom got to his feet, pulling what looked like a key fob from his pocket. “I’d better be going,” he said, “Oh, and choose the yellow roses. You’ll know what I mean. See you later, little dude...or not.” Tom winked and stepped backward into a blackness that seemed to suck him away. And Tommy was alone once more.
Heaving a resigned sigh, Tommy walked back down to the store. Standing as tall and straight as he could, he placed the crisp bar on the counter. “Mr. Henderson, I have something to tell you,” he began.