180 - One Hundred Eighty

Breaker Whiskey

[TRANSCRIPT]

[click, static]

It isn’t…it isn’t Billings. Fox was right. Or at least—

[click, static]

I should explain. I don’t know for who’s benefit but…

I went back to the house this morning. I didn’t— I didn’t go in or anything, I…well, I staked it out. I know the woods around the house like the back of my hand, felt fairly confident that I could stay out of sight and see if anyone was going in and out. See if Harry had come back.

She hasn’t, as far as I can tell, but he’s still hovering around. He drove up in a shitty old VW that sounded like it was gasping for breath and went inside for…fifteen minutes? And then he left again. Doing what I’m thinking is probably a daily check. To see if anyone has shown up. To see if there’s been any change.

God am I glad I had the common sense not to broadcast that I was going back today.

I don’t think he saw me. Though I’m not sure what would have happened if he had. I got a good look at him and it wasn’t…

The weird thing is that it did look a little like Billings. Same blond hair, same light eyes—I was too far away to really get a sense of the color, but it’s such a sunny day and his eyes were kind of…glowing in that way that blue or green eyes do when the sun is shining in them.

Harry’s eyes do that.

But he was—he wasn’t an average sized forty something guy. He’s…slight build. Reedy like he doesn’t eat very much. Maybe a little on the shorter side. Felt like I could snap him in half just looking at him. And he’s…young. Early twenties I’d guess? If that? Still had some baby fat around his cheeks, but I thought I could see some dimples too. Or the hint of them, just like…

Am I dealing with some kind of time travel? Is this the young Billings, traveled…forward in time to prevent something that’s already happened? It makes no sense. I know that I haven’t traveled back in time, because I’ve read just about every single newspaper from 1968 that I could get my hands on, just to have something to do.

I took a photo. So that I could look at it later, see if I could remember anything else about Billings, if he had a mole or a scar that would give him away. Or else see if I could recognize whoever this person is.

Except the picture—I mean, I took it from far away but I could see him through the viewfinder, I should be able to see him in the photo too. But instead there’s just…nothing where he should be standing.

It’s more evidence that, for whatever reason, photos are showing me something I can’t otherwise see. People that aren’t there; empty space where there shouldn’t be.

That mystery will have to wait. I have to go meet Harry.

God willing.

[click, static]

[beeps]

Junior

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