System Architect

"Dinner!” Dad called around 6:00.

I finished up what I was doing and went downstairs. On the way, I smelled the distinct smell of onions, lemon, and shrimp. I smiled. It was the best thing Dad ever made. It was something he did rarely as it was somewhat expensive, but it also lasted for several days as leftovers if he made a big batch. I hadn’t eaten it in years!

“Smells great!” I told him when I saw him in the kitchen piling both our plates with pasta and lemon-cream sauce.

“Want any capers?” Dad asked with a smile.

“Yep! Hopefully they’re actually capers and not peppercorns like that one time…”

“Peppercorns?”

“Yeah,” I laughed. “You accidentally grabbed peppercorns instead of capers. Not as good that way.”

“Yup, they’re capers,” he said after popping one into his mouth.

“Great! Let’s eat?”

He nodded and gave me my plate. It was heavy enough that I had to carefully walk to the table so I wouldn’t drop it or spill any of its contents. I was glad the quests that day had mostly involved my legs and not my arms or I might have failed!

I hopped onto my chair. With a fork, I snared some of the steaming pasta and twirled it into a manageable size. I blew the steam from it and plopped the load of pasta, sauce, shrimp, and capers into my mouth. I smiled. It was just how I remembered.

“I missed this,” I said when I was done chewing that bite.

“That good, huh?”

“Great job. I really should ask you for the recipe sometime, but I won’t need it for a while yet. Hopefully I’ll remember before I move out this time.”

“This—uh, right,” he cleared his throat.

We ate in silence for several minutes.

“Oh, right,” he said. “I have a job starting tomorrow, so you’ll be hanging out with your grandparents. I know it’d not ideal—given the whole time travel thing—but I can’t leave you home alone.”

“I get it,” I said with a fake smile.

Not being home meant passing quests was going to be a lot more difficult. At least the physical ones. The mental ones would be easier, even if explaining the reading was somewhat difficult.

“That reminds me,” I continued. “Please try to finish the books you got today as soon as you can. I think I’ve figured some stuff out and I’ll need to talk to you about it.”

“Alright,” Dad sighed.

“Yeah, I know how you feel about it. Playing an RPG might also be a fairly good idea as well.”

“RPG?”

“Role-Playing Game. The kind where you level up by fighting monsters and stuff.”

“But I don’t—“

“I know you don’t. There are plenty of free ones you can stick on your phone to try out. You don’t even have to play for that long—maybe an hour or two.”

“Fine.”

“If it makes you feel any better about it, you can think of it as research. It’s related to why I’m in my younger body and to what I need to talk to you about.”

“So these monsters are real?” he asked, having put the pieces together.

“Not yet.”

“But they will be?”

“As far as I can tell, yes.”

“Ok,” he nodded. “I see why there’s some urgency involved.”

“We have about 15 years,” I cautioned. “Both a lot and a little amount of time.”

“I seeeeee,” he drew out the word. “How do you know all of this?”

“It’ll be a lot easier to explain once you’ve read the books and played a game or two. A few days more won’t make a difference to my plan.”

Dad nodded. We continued to chat about other things while eating dinner. When it was over, I went upstairs and ran a bath for myself.

I enjoyed the hot water and sinking a plastic Titanic a few times. I preferred showers, but this house was incapable as it only had the one tub. I scrubbed the dirt from my skin and sat in the water ‘till it was cold before getting out. I quickly dried and dressed—the sting of cool air on my still-damp skin make me shiver.

The next hour until bed I spent reading by lamp light. I could have used the bigger overhead light in my room, but the dimmer lamp was calming in a way. When I was done, I flicked the switch off and went to sleep.

After eating breakfast early the next morning, Dad drove me the 25 minutes to his parents’ house. They lived at the end of a road with a rather long driveway that I’d face-planted on after tripping over their dog. We pulled up the driveway to a turnaround in front of the house’s garage.

The house was a two story building with a finished basement that had been designed by Grandpa nearly four decades ago. It was shaped roughly like a typical house—a boxy rectangle with a roof—but it had a few extra angled sections here and there to break up the long straight lines. Right above the garage, the house came out triangularly rather than a flat face to match that of the garage below. The roof was similar in that it was primarily a triangle, but it had sections that were of a shallower or steeper pitch that gave it a crumpled paper look. At least the color was normal—Grandma’s choice. It was some kind of light-cream color with a fancy name I couldn’t remember.

I followed Dad out of the truck and around to the front of the house. The ground sloped up from the driveway towards the front door. There was a flagstone path with steps—no handrails… that would be too smart—surrounded by hedge that took us from the driveway to the door. Dad rang the bell and we waited.

“Coming!” I heard Grandma say.

She opened the door soon after. Grandma Rose looked much younger than the last I’d seen her. She’d still been alive and in her 90s before the whole time travel thing happened. As she was now, she dressed conservatively in spite of her more lurid past. I had later learned she was a ‘dancer’ when she was young. No one would ever confirm whether that was just the erotic kind or if she offered a more hands-on service—I had my suspicions it was the latter based on hints and subtext. After meeting Grandpa, she’d transitioned to being a dance instructor first in the local college, and then for the high school. I was pretty sure she was still teaching on a part-time basis, but I couldn’t remember when she officially retired.

“Come in, come in!” she sang excitedly.

“Hey Ma,” Dad said. “It’s good to see you, but I can’t stay. I’ve got a job that starts in—“ he pulled up his phone “—forty-five minutes, so I’ve gotta run. I should be back around dinner. Sorry for the short notice.”

“That’s alright Mil’,” she said. “I love spending time with the youngest Milton. You know, he looks just like you when you were that age.”

“I know Ma, thanks” he said giving her a quick hug before turning to me. “See you later, Eddy. Try not to get into too much trouble?”

“I won’t,’ I rolled my eyes. “It’s good to see you, Grandma Rose. You’re looking radiant today.”

“Why thank you!” she smiled, giving me a tight hug and lifting me up—much to my annoyance. “You’re going by Eddy now?”

“Yup. I like it better.”

I did my best to act my age, which was very difficult. I hoped that she bought my deception. I didn’t want to get them involved if I didn’t have to. The less people who knew, the better. They weren’t gossips as far as I could remember, but I didn’t know them as well as I knew my own parents. Mom was going to require more convincing than Dad, but she was smart and someone I wanted on my side. The three of us could work out what to do—even if that was me having two separate conversations with them due to their falling out—and whether or not to let my grandparents know what was up.

We went inside while Dad closed the door to go to work. I followed Grandma through the dining room and into the kitchen when Grandpa Milton was seated, eating his breakfast of granola.

Grandpa’d come from nothing. He was born in a tiny town in the middle of nowhere with no real prospects to advance his lot in life if he stayed. So when given the chance, he joined the Army for a few years before going to school to become an architect. He rose up in the company he worked for to become a partner and eventually retired early—thanks to some lucky bets in the stock market. He was very predictable and kept the same routine for most of his life—including the granola I was watching him eat. His impoverished upbringing stuck with him and influenced his habits and routines. He wore simple clothes and repaired—rather than replaced—anything that broke.

“Hey Grandpa!” I called over to him.

“Hay is for horses!” he smiled, appraising me.

I smiled back.

“How are you, Milton?” he asked.

“Good,” I replied. “Can you call me Eddy?”

“Eddy?” he asked himself thoughtfully. “Hmm… Milton’s a bit archaic I guess, and you’re littler than an ‘Edward’ still, so why not. Eddy’s good.”

“Do you want to head downstairs and watch TV?” Grandma asked.

“Yes, please!” I said with excitement.

It would be easier to read and write away from prying eyes. The physical ones would be more difficult in general. However, one of the physical quests involved push-ups and sit-ups, so that one was doable.

I exited the kitchen and walked down the stairs to the basement. The basement had a slight smell of mildew that the always-running dehumidifier just couldn’t quite exorcise. It held racks of wine bottles in one of the walls—Grandpa used ceramic pipes to cradle the bottles—and a ping-pong table in the middle. On the far end of the room was an alcove with an ancient rear-projection TV that had so many converters to keep working that it would probably have been cheaper to buy a modern TV. In front of the TV were two armchairs and a coffee table.

I sat down in one of the chairs and turned the TV on—using the excessive amount of remotes that required. I pulled out one of the books I had borrowed from my bag and began to read. I hoped the noise of the TV would be enough to let me do my quests in peace without raising any suspicion.