Seconds to Spare

Jerry pulled his convertible over to the side of the road. He wiped the sweat off his face and tried to regain his composure.

Some old guy on the sidewalk said to him, "That was mighty lucky boy. You nearly got yerself killed back there."

Back there was the intersection of 6th and Main. Jerry had been going through on a green light when a semi barreled into the intersection. He could still see the front end of the truck bearing down on the driver's side of the car.

The truck came zooming at him and then, for a moment, time had seemed to stand still. And in that instant, Jerry's car had slipped past the truck to safety.

Regaining his senses, Jerry remembered that he had a passenger with him. Looking to his right, Jerry was shocked to see Ed sitting as peacefully as ever - almost as if nothing had happened.

"You OK?"

"Yeah," Ed replied calmly. "That was close."

"No kidding! How come that didn't scare the crap out of you like it did me?

Jerry stared at Ed. The older man was a puzzle to him They had met at a restaurant one day when Ed had forgotten his wallet. Jerry offered to pay his bill and Ed insisted on repaying him later. Since then, the two had formed a curious friendship; Jerry, the busy real estate broker, and Ed, the semi-retired widower.

Finally, Ed answered, "It was no big deal. I just used a few seconds I had set aside."

"You what? That makes no sense!"

Before Ed could answer, Jerry put the car in gear and pulled back out on the road. Over coffee a few minutes later, though, Jerry returned to their close call.

"What did you mean back there? You know, about the few seconds?"

Ed looked down at his coffee and then into the eyes of his friend. Jerry could tell that Ed was evaluating him and deciding what to say. Finally, Ed shrugged and spoke.

"Time is a funny thing. Sometimes, it moves so slowly you can't stand it. You know, like when you're in a waiting room somewhere. Other times, time travels so fast you hardly have a chance to react or think."

"Yeah, so?"

"Well, it's possible when time is moving really slowly to gather up a few seconds here and there and hold them for later. I happened to have a few seconds with me when that truck came at us, so I bought us some extra time by giving them back."

"You what?" Jerry was beginning to think the near-miss had affected Ed more than he realized.

"I can only hold onto a few seconds at a time, maybe thirty at most. But I suppose it's possible to keep even more than that if you know how."

"What are you talking about?"

Ed looked Jerry directly in the eyes. "I'm a time keeper. There are some people, like me, who have the gift of being able to gather up time when it is slow and dispensing it back later. That truck would have hit us, but I gave back a few seconds to you so that our car would have the time it needed to get out of the way."

Jerry took a gulp of coffee and looked at Ed to see if this was all some joke. "You're pulling my leg, right? No one can do that, right?"

Ed smiled patiently. "Order a piece of pie."

"I'm not hungry."

Ed smiled again. "Waitress, could I have a piece of apple pie?"

"Sure, honey," came the reply.

"Now, notice," Ed said.

"Notice what?" asked Jerry as the waitress brought the pie.

"How long did it take her to bring the pie?"

"I don't know. Twenty seconds?"

"Uh, huh. And how far away is the kitchen?"

"I'd guess it's about 20 feet away."

"That's right. Now, how do you think she was able to walk in there, cut the pie, put it on a plate and bring it back in twenty seconds?"

Before Jerry could answer, Ed continued, "She didn't. It really took her about 50 seconds, but I gathered up the other thirty. So it seemed to you like only a few seconds. Now," Ed continued, "I can't change what happens in those seconds, I can only change the speed at which they occur."

Jerry motioned the waitress over. "Did you just cut that pie and put it on a plate?"

She looked down at Jerry with a confused look.

"I mean," he continued, "Was the pie already on a plate or did you have to prepare it?"

"I had to pull it out of the fridge, cut it, and put a piece on a plate," she answered.

"OK, thanks," said Jerry, not even bothering to explain his bizarre question. He talked with Ed a bit more, but soon changed the subject. Later that day, Jerry decided to put the whole idea of time-keeping in the too-weird-to-understand box in his brain. There it would sit for the next few months, undisturbed and unexamined.

All that changed about a year and a half later, though, when Ed died in a car accident. He and Jerry were going to meet for coffee. Jerry had arrived first, so he sat in the restaurant waiting. Looking out the window, Jerry noticed Ed crossing the street. In front of him was a young mom with a child in each hand.

All of a sudden, a sports car came zooming around the corner. It was clearly going to hit the mom and her kids. Then, almost in an instant, the car seemed to stand still while everyone walking across the street sped up. When it did enter the crosswalk, Ed was in front of the car, not the children and their mother.

Ed's funeral was attended by a few family and friends. Several lamented the fact that he had been involved in such an unfortunate accident.

"If he had just paid better attention, this wouldn't have happened," Ed's niece said.

Jerry nodded politely. He knew that it would be too hard to explain it to them and they probably wouldn't believe it anyway.

(c) 2016, Kevin H. Grenier