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madhan Vasudevan

Can someone help me decode this time travel short story?

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Can someone help me decoding this time travel short story ??

 

The messenger is first story and forth chime is a sequel.

 

The messenger

 

If one were to look at Weatherton Drive from afar during the mid-afternoon of June 3, 2014, nothing would appear out of the ordinary. But to a scrutinizing observer, the red Royal Mail van at the end of the block presented something of an anomaly. For it was both stationary and occupied.

 

Inside the van sat Navid. This was his last full day of work. Technically he worked tomorrow, but he wouldn’t be on his route; rather, he’d be having a retirement party and eating biscuits with those of his coworkers who cared enough to take the day off and celebrate with him. But in his thirty odd years delivering post, this was his strangest assignment.

 

He looked down at the envelope in his hands and checked for the tenth or eleventh time that he was at the right address.

 

Paul Hocutt

23 Weatherton Drive

BRIGHTON

BN50 9ST

 

He looked back at the front of the house and reaffirmed that the address did, in fact, match the address on the envelope. The last thing he wanted to do was to screw up this final and bizarre assignment.

 

After a half hour of waiting on the corner, Navid saw a woman leave 23 Weatherton Drive, get into a station wagon, and drive away. This was his cue. He stepped out of the van and walked up to the front door. Only a few seconds after he rang the doorbell, a handsome, burly man appeared in the doorway.

 

Navid cleared his throat. “Delivery for Paul Hocutt.”

 

“I’m Paul Hocutt. Do I need to sign?”

 

“Well, I’m afraid it’s a little more complicated than that. I need to watch you open it. And then I need to sign something in your presence saying that you have read it and appear to understand it.”

 

Paul’s eyes narrowed. “I’m sorry?”

 

“Yes, sir. But you’re not to read it aloud. I’m not to hear anything in the letter.” Navid leaned in and lowered his voice. “I’m told it’s a bit hush, hush. Also do you have any identification I can check?”

 

“This isn’t some sort of collections trick? I’m not behind on any payments?”

 

“To be honest I have no idea what this is. But in my thirty years I’ve never seen a debt collector resort to these lengths.”

 

Paul showed his ID to Navid, who nodded and handed over the letter. Paul opened it. “Thirty years, eh?”

 

Navid laughed. “I retire tomorrow.”

 

“Congratulations! Any big plans for the next—” Paul stopped mid-sentence, the look of moderate interest in a stranger’s story frozen on his face as a deep concern for his own took hold internally. He read on:

 

Paul,

 

What you’re about to read will be alarming, but don’t worry. Everything works out in the end. If the plan has unfolded correctly (which I am confident it has as I have in my hands the sworn statement Navid is about to sign), you and I have just had a fight, and I’ll be spending the night at Wanda’s. I can’t tell you exactly when we’ll see each other again, as I’ve learned that time doesn’t work that way. But I can tell you that, from your perspective, it will seem like a few days.

 

Here’s the hard part. In a few minutes you will not exist in this time; you’ll exist in the past. I wish I could have given you more warning, but I couldn’t risk you alerting me. I can’t know what’s happened until tomorrow. After you’ve gone back in time, the first thing I need you to do is make sure that a post card reaches me tomorrow, telling me how to find you. It seems that you’ll know what I need to do after you make the journey today. I can’t tell you what you end up telling me to do, because that would create a paradox, and time has a way of avoiding paradoxes. Plus, you’ll need to pay close attention to what happens in the next few minutes. Your knowing what to do will be vital later. Best of luck (and remember to smile)!

 

So much love,Jillian

 

Forth Chime

 

When the post came that day, a small card was nestled just conspicuously enough between a doctor’s bill and advert for the new electronics store down the block. Had it been hidden entirely, Mrs. Hocutt would not have noticed it in time. But had it been too prominent, she would have found it too soon. It did, after all, stand out from the rest of the post. The edges of the card had softened into a yellowed frame for a discolored message. It was this darkened edge that first caught Mrs. Hocutt’s eye upon her third trip down the hall that afternoon. She found her eyes focused on the cards yellow corner peeking out from behind the doctor’s bill, and so she did what any curious adult would do and slid the card out from the pile of post and scrutinized the heading.

 

TO: Jillian Hocutt23 Weatherton DriveBRIGHTONBN50 9ST

 

Below the address was a date: 4 June 2004. Then “Deliver on 4 June 2014.”

 

Mrs. Hocutt laughed. Had this card actually been written ten years before, then the author would have been uncannily prescient. Mrs. Hocutt had only two months before been Miss Carlisle, until she married Mr. Paul Hocutt, her childhood orthodontist’s son. Clearly this is some sort of a hoax. But the next lines introduced some doubt into Mrs. Hocutts’s hoax theory, and indeed into things Mrs. Hocutt had never before had cause to doubt.

 

“My Jillian, it is imperative that you follow these directions precisely. Wait for the fourth chime. Then RUN to the kitchen.”

 

This prank is not worth my attention, thought Mrs. Hocutt as she dropped the post card back on the pile. But before the aged card had fallen to the doctor’s bill, the grandfather clock in the hallway began to ring. Mrs. Hocutt looked up. Four o’clock.

 

First chime.

 

“Paul!” cried Mrs. Hocutt throughout the house. No reply. “Paul!”

 

Second chime.

 

“Paul, answer me, yeah?” Mrs. Hocutt glanced down at the card and read on frantically: “I’m not there anymore, so don’t waste time trying to find me. You have to decide now to do this.”

 

Third chime.

 

“If you follow these instructions exactly, there may still be time. Go now.”

 

Fourth chime.

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I guess the question is what would you like decoding?

 

For me, the first piece of decoding is the American language in an English setting. that aside though, It appears to be that something is going on in the kitchen of their house. We aren't told yet as the story has only just begun.

 

Clearly it also involves an element of the past not being able to happen without the future couple travelling back to the past.

 

Does the 'thing in the kitchen' happen only once every day? or on every hour that has four chimes? (4am - 12noon & 4pm - midnight). either way, it was quite the coincidence that the postcard arrived and was read on the exact said hour?

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:-D Greetings, newbies.

 

Do you expect Mrs. Hocutt an obedient wife?--

 

that Mr. Hocutt honors God?

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Not sure why you would think Mrs Hocutt is obedient. From what I read, she instigated the start of the whole thing and is likely more the main character than he is.

 

Also, how would someone 'Honor God' in this type of story? I'm intrigued...

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There was some question as to whom would remember what from the past in the immediate future.

 

Knowing I put God first, my husband must do likewise in order for him to expect my compliance,

 

i.e. my trusting his motives inclines my being quick to oblige him versus question his requests.

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There was some question as to whom would remember what from the past in the immediate future.

 

Knowing I put God first, my husband must do likewise in order for him to expect my compliance,

 

i.e. my trusting his motives inclines my being quick to oblige him versus question his requests,

which, over time, accounts for a predictable spontaneity.

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I guess the question is what would you like decoding?

 

For me, the first piece of decoding is the American language in an English setting. that aside though, It appears to be that something is going on in the kitchen of their house. We aren't told yet as the story has only just begun.

 

Clearly it also involves an element of the past not being able to happen without the future couple travelling back to the past.

 

Does the 'thing in the kitchen' happen only once every day? or on every hour that has four chimes? (4am - 12noon & 4pm - midnight). either way, it was quite the coincidence that the postcard arrived and was read on the exact said hour?

 

Greetings McCarthyMR, Thank you for the reply !!! First of all i could understand what happens here, i just wanted to make sure, what really happened.. I found this story in some story writing forum in which the first story was written year before the second story.. I tried contacting the author but No response.. So i thought i could get the answer or any explanation here.I really don't know the writer would reply back or if there is anymore sequel to it...

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There was some question as to whom would remember what from the past in the immediate future.

 

Knowing I put God first, my husband must do likewise in order for him to expect my compliance,

 

i.e. my trusting his motives inclines my being quick to oblige him versus question his requests.

 

Hi Seesaw, Thank you for the reply !!! I really don't why u mentioned "Honor God" here,even after your reply for McCarthyMR but i appreciate.. thank you..

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You quoted me and, then, addressed Seesaw, who might have been alluding to matrimony--

 

Why we need travel agency,insurance,money,valid paper - just for this case.

 

Seesaw, does your government penalize marriage

 

Madhan,

 

It was I who mentioned my spouse's need to honor God, if he wants me to readily obey him in the immediate manner requested of Mrs. Hocutt.

 

But, were my better half not virtuous, I'd have never betrothed him in the first place. Back to the story, a clock's chiming is a recurrent theme in everything from fiction,

 

e.g. Cinderella, to sayings, e.g. "thirteen strikes of the clock," which is to infer that

 

"the previous events or 'strokes to the clock' must be called into question"-- Wikipedia.

 

The fourth chime might be significant, but it's probably not as important as some anniversary date to which they are to return in time.

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First thing that drew me into this story was the presence of the number 23. I've researched the 23 enigma and experience the effects of it on a daily basis. Second, it made me think of the story of the man who gets a letter from himself in the future, and has to live out his days until he gets to the date in the future again, and sends the letter...a loop. Perhaps that is what is going in this tale. The author is taking us through a loop.

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