If this was 2023, I would have texted a family member if I was stuck in the ER with a broken arm, but there were no cell phones and I didn't think to use a payphone. Understandably, the McDonoughs were worried when Teddy and I didn't come home for dinner. Slightly inebriated, I staggered into the house. Teddy held my waist, steadying me.

At first, Mrs. McDonough didn't notice my arm. She frowned, shaking her head with her hands on her hips. "I can see you boys have been having fun at the Worthen again. Do you know what time it is?"

"Eric broke his arm," Teddy said. "He tripped over a log."

"So the remedy for a broken arm is whiskey?"

"Relax, Mom. He was in pain."

"Well, you might as well sit down and have some soup. You boys must be hungry."

Teddy and I sat at the table while Mrs. McDonough ladled soup into two bowls. She placed them in front of us, along with crusty pieces of bread. I hadn't noticed Mr. McDonough enter the kitchen. He poured whiskey into a glass and slammed it on the table. "Here ya go! It looks like you need it."

"I don't know about that," Mrs. McDonough said. "He looks like he's already had a few."

"One more won't hurt."

Millie ran into the kitchen, gasping at my casted arm. "What happened?"

"He tripped and fell, okay?" Teddy snapped, annoyed with all the questioning. "And it didn't happen on the ice."

"Does it hurt?" she asked.

"He can't feel anything right now," Teddy said.

"It doesn't hurt too much," I said, dipping the bread into the minestrone soup. "At least it's not my right arm." I'd never broken a bone before, and I picked the worst time to do it.

"Why?" Millie asked innocently.

"Because I'm left-handed."

"Miss Hoover says left-handed people work for the devil."

I laughed so hard I spit out my soup. My intoxication fueled my laughter. I'd forgotten the stigma of being left-handed. Left handed children were taught how to write with their right hands. My great uncle Bob, who attended Catholic school until the eighth grade, told me that nuns whacked children's knuckles with a ruler if they attempted to write with their left hand. He was left handed.

After dinner and a few more shots of whiskey, Teddy practically carried me up the stairs. I was never much of a heavy drinker. I occasionally enjoyed a beer or a cocktail.

Teddy stood behind me, his hands at my waist, guiding me up the ladder to the attic. He draped my arm over his shoulder, dragging me to the bed. As I lay with my face buried in the pillow, Teddy pulled off my socks and helped me out of my clothes. My limbs were like jelly. Lying beside me, he brought the covers over us. His gentle touch sent shivers down my spine as his fingertips trailed across the back of my head.

"Whatever happens, Eric, you'll always be in my heart," he said. "Every time I read Virginia Woolf and Ernest Hemingway, I'll think of you."

Teddy squeezed my shoulder, kissing my mouth. Within minutes, I was asleep.

Each day, I worked on my letter, writing a sentence or two. Teddy had already finished his letter and put it in my briefcase. He gripped my left wrist, looking hard into my eyes. "Promise me you won't read the letter until you get home."

"I promise. I'd say the same to you, but I haven't finished it yet."

"Well, you better get going. Time's running out."

My thirty day long dream was ending. If I was lucky, I'd wake up in my own bed to find Teddy sleeping beside me. Maybe, in reality, he was actually someone I met online and we shared an unbelievable night of incredible sex together. It's possible I reverted to my old ways where I became infatuated with the first man who showed an interest in me. Maybe he fell in love with me in the same way I fell in love with him. I'd never make sense of anything until I was home.

On my last day at school, students gave me a giant goodbye card. They signed their names with little messages, like 'we'll miss you' and 'wish you could stay.' If it wasn't 1935, I'd consider staying, but I missed my bed and all the comforts of my own home. I blocked out the fact that these students were all dead in 2023, but they reminded me why I did what I did.

Jimmy never mentioned Edna Moran again or the previous jobs he'd done for her until I was about to leave. As everyone gathered around the table for our last meal together, Jimmy leaned into me as if he was about to tell me a secret. "You leave at midnight," he whispered. "Downtown... the same spot where the taxi cab dropped you off. Teddy'll walk you. You can't miss it."

"What happens if he misses it?" Margaret asked.

"I wasn't talking to you," Jimmy said. "It doesn't concern you."

"Will we see you again?" Millie asked me.

"Maybe," I said.

Mrs. McDonough made pot roast, my favorite meal here. She boiled the vegetables to death, but I didn't complain.

"Thank you, everyone, for your hospitality," I said. "You've been great... and it's been fun. It's been an experience."

Teddy was quiet, sipping his milk.

"You've been a good friend to Teddy," Mrs. McDonough said. "God knows he needed a friend. I hope you stay in touch."

"Of course," I said, even though there was no way of staying in touch.

After dinner, the family gathered in the parlor, the sound of music filling the room. Again, Teddy was quiet, not even singing along. At eight o'clock, Teddy excused himself for the night.

"Are you feeling alright?" his father asked. "I hear the flu's still going around."

"I'm alright. I just want to take a nap before I walk Eric downtown later tonight."

"Does it have to be so late?" Mrs. McDonough asked.

"I didn't make the rules," Teddy said, leaving the room.

For another ten minutes, I listened to a few more songs. However, I just wanted to be with Teddy. As I said goodbye, Millie hugged me tight. With a final wave, I made my way upstairs. Teddy wasn't in bed. Rather, he was sitting upright on the edge of the bed, his body tense, his hands clenched in his lap. When I emerged, he sprung up and ran to me, embracing me.

"Teddy, it's—" I wanted to tell him 'everything will be okay,' but he interrupted me.

"Ssh, I don't wanna talk." He broke away from me to unbutton my shirt. He pushed my shirt off my shoulders and placed soft, lingering kisses on my chest. I backed him onto the bed and collapsed on top of him, savoring every kiss. We had a few more hours together and I wanted them to be memorable.

And so did Teddy.

Yeah, I'd say our final sexual adventure together was memorable.

"What's the first thing you're gonna do when you go home?" Teddy asked, holding me in his arms in bed, my favorite place to be.

"Have a shower," I said without hesitation. "And then I'm getting a mocha latte at Starbucks."

"Sounds fancy. What's a Starbucks?"

"It's a coffee shop, and I want to get a great big Greek Salad at Athenian's."

"You can't wait to go home, huh?"

"Yes, and no." I sat up and reached for my Apple watch on the nightstand. "I know you have no use for this, but I'd like you to have it. Look, it has my name on the inside, so you'll remember me." I flipped over the watch to show him my name written in black sharpie along the inside of the band. "So this'll be a way to remember me."

"Are you sure you want me to have this? Your sister gave it to you."

"Yes, I'm sure."

"Remind me what the rainbow stands for."

"It's a symbol of LGBTQ pride."

"What's LGBTQ?"

"It stands for lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, queer or questioning." I decided not to review the + for fear of further confusing him.

"What's transgender?"

"In the simplest terms, a transgender person is a person whose gender identity or gender expression doesn't correspond with their sex assigned at birth."

"Like a transvestite?"

"Sort of. That word isn't used anymore. It's considered outdated and offensive."

"Your world is so confusing but progressive."

Teddy pushed me away slightly and got out of bed to fetch his trousers on the floor. He rummaged through his pockets, eventually removing a single dollar bill. Returning to bed, he tore it in two and handed me one half. "So we'll always have a piece of each other," he said.

Inside my briefcase, I reached for the letter Teddy had written me. Without opening it, I slid my half in the folded letter. I returned the letter to the briefcase, tucking it in one of the compartments.

"We should probably get going, huh?" I said.

Teddy nodded, pulling up his underpants. I'd already packed up my suitcase even though nothing in it belonged to me. When I arrived in 1935, the suitcase magically appeared. Nevertheless, I brought it with me.

At eleven thirty, Teddy and I headed downtown, both walking with our heads down, occasionally glancing at each other. The night was as dark as it was when the taxi picked me up thirty days ago. Teddy stood close to me as we waited.

We held our arms over our eyes, blocking the blinding light as the taxi grew closer. The taxi abruptly screeched, almost running over my foot. Like before, the headlights were so bright, I couldn't see the driver's face. I was also more focused on Teddy's sad, distraught eyes. Tears intermittently fell down his cheeks.

"Hey, kid, I told ya I'd be back in thirty days," the driver called out the window.

"Give me a minute," I said to the driver, taking Teddy's hand in mine. "I'll forever be grateful to you and your family. This has been the greatest experience of my life. My only regret is being unable to take you with me."

"It's not his time, kid," the driver said.

"We're not fucking kids!" Teddy shouted. "We're men!"

Grabbing his shoulders, I pulled him to me, fighting back my own tears.

"I'm gonna find you," he said in my ear. "You haven't seen the last of me. I'm coming for you."

I wanted to believe him.

"It's better to have loved than to never have loved at all," I said, hugging him tightly.

"That's such a bullshit line," he cried against my shoulder.

"Maybe," I said, slowly pulling away. "Maybe not. Take care of yourself, you hear me?"

Teddy nodded as his bottom lip quivered, fingering my Apple watch and rainbow wristband. I kissed his lips once. With my suitcase and leather briefcase, I got in the taxi. My eyes met Teddy's one more time as the driver pulled away.

"When I got in the taxi, you said nothing about broken hearts," I said, wiping my cheeks with the back of my hand. "I understand that all lives have purpose and meaning, but why exactly did I need to be in 1935? Why 1935 and why Teddy McDonough? Edna explained nothing. She was full of shit."

"I can't answer those questions. I'm just the driver."

On the way back to 2023, I cried myself to sleep, realizing I may never find the answers.

Words: 1944
Total words: 26842