Bruno Aguado

Ms. Gardner
English 10 Period 4
August 30 2014
Meeting Myself
It was a Friday afternoon in the year 2014, and there was sound everywhere. The thing
was, there was no sound of cars driving past me as I rode my bike home. It was all the sounds of
nature: birds singing while flying and leaves rustling on trees in the cool breeze; it was all very
clich. I gave no thought to it. It was 4:00 pm, and I told my parents I would be home by 5. I
figured that, since it was later in the day, all of the parents had already gone and picked up their
children from school, hence the silence from automobiles.
As I was about to turn left to get to my house, I felt an urge. It was an urge so powerful, it
felt like I was being tugged by a rope to go right. Something made me want to turn right, I had
no idea what, so I took out my phone to check the time. 4:06 pm, it read. Sure, I thought to
myself, I could go right. Ive still got time. I turned right and kept going until I reached a park.
It was the park that was behind the elementary school I had gone to as a younger kid. The
tugging feeling had stopped, so I got off my bike and walked it to some shade under a
particularly tall tree.
It was strange; the park was devoid of children, and there was nobody playing on the
baseball or soccer field. I took off my backpack and lied down. As I was closing my eyes to feel
the cool breeze, I heard someone audibly groan and lie down next to me. Why? I thought.
Theres plenty of room and shade everywhere else. Why did you have to lie down next to me? I
wasnt angry or disgusted, just curious as to why, out of the entire area, the person had to lie
down no more than two feet away from me. The person then started to whistle, quite horribly. I
noticed the song instantly. It was Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen. I recognized it because, for
whatever reason, I was hearing it everywhere. Tentatively, I turned to look at the person next to
me.
He appeared to be older than 65, with white hair and an occasional brown hair drowning
in the sea of snow. He stopped whistling and turned to look at me. He had darkish skin and, by
the looks of it, was Mexican. His eyes gleamed like a childs even though the wrinkly skin on his
face assured me that he was no child. He was wearing a top hat, which was odd because he didnt
have the proper clothing or accessories to match it: he didnt have a pocket watch, he didnt have
a fancy cane, he didnt have a monocle, and he didnt have a suit on. In fact, he was simply
wearing jeans and a sweatshirt.
I didnt want to seem rude, but the man hadnt stopped staring at me. Before I could open
my mouth to say anything, he reached into his pocket and got out an object wrapped in a napkin.
Without releasing me from his unblinking gaze, he unwrapped the object and produced a flash
drive. I gave him a quizzical look and he burst out laughing. I had had enough from this
unsettling man and was moving to get up when he said, You have no idea how hard it was to
keep a straight face! The look on your face as I moved my hand was perfect! If only you had
seen your face . . . oh, well I guess you technically did . . . I was getting up again when he said,
Strange things, flash drives. They can hold so much data, yet they weigh the same before and
after 16 gigabytes of data has been put on it.
Yes, I said, humoring the man. Ive wondered why, but have never bothered to search
for an answer.

I know you havent, he replied, because I dont know either.

What? This guy was really starting to freak me out, and red flags were being raised left
and right.
Listen, this is going to sound crazy, he started cautiously, but Im you, 55 years into
your future. Your future, up until now, is my past. He stopped to gauge my reaction and
continued to speak when I didnt react. I was whistling Bohemian Rhapsody because you told
me that you would recognize the song. Or, I told myself that I would recognize the song . . . time
travel gets jumbled up after a bit. Oh well, I guess thats just the way the cookie crumbles.
Future-me stopped and frowned, Ive never said that before. I dont like it. From this point
forward, I will never say the phrase unless absolutely necessary, although I havent experienced a
point where I have to. And neither will you, at least not until now. But even then it wasnt
necessary. I confuse myself sometimes.
The birds had stopped singing, the trees were no longer swaying, and my mind was
reeling. Theres no way this could be real, I thought to myself. Its not possible. But, there is a
way I could test this. If could get a sharp object-
Stop, future-me interrupted. I know what youre, or Im, thinking. After all, I thought
of it first, and you shouldnt cut yourself to see if a scar appears on my face. You might end up
killing yourself, thus causing me to not exist to speak to you right now.
Obviously I dont kill myself if youre here right now.
Yes, but I know that Ive, or youve, read theories on time travel.
Of course I have. The Butterfly Effect: I do something miniscule in my past, it could
increase exponentially and dramatically changing my future.
I know youve read other ones, just like I did when I was your age. Specifically, the Multiverse
Theory. If you kill yourself now, this universe, the one with us in it, will cease to exist, but in
another universe you dont kill yourself. I would prefer if the latter option becomes this
universe.
Fine. You claim to be me from my future. You cant expect me to just believe you on that. Show
me proof.
Open your backpack and take out the flash drive you have with you and give it to me. As I did
what I was told, older-me took out a contraption that resembled a phone. He plugged in the flash
drive that he had and took a screenshot of the files. He then plugged in my flash drive and did the
same. He handed back the flash drive and showed me the two shots, side by side.
As you can see, he said while pointing at both pictures, both flash drives contain the
same files. We decided, in my past, to keep this flash drive and to never delete or add to it. That
way, we could prove to ourselves that its the same one.
I was speechless. I still wasnt completely ready to accept this realization, but if it was
true, I might be the first person to ever speak with a chrononaut.
So, if you really are from the future, why are you here?
To chat, mostly. Maybe answer some questions you may have. Since me from my future
helped me from my past, then I must go back and help you. I already have an idea of what you
will ask since you will ask the exact same things I did when I experienced this. My eyes started
to lose focus, Oh, I see that you arent exactly grasping the concept of me going to my past
because future me went into his past, which was my future. If it helps, dont think of time as a
linear thing, like Point A to Point B or Cause to Effect. Think of it more like a huge sphere.
Think of a sphere that is all jumbled up and moving in zigzags because of the endless
possibilities of things that could happen.

Sure, anyway, you said something about answering questions? Id like to ask a few.
Fire away.
First off, why do you have such a ridiculous hat on your head?
Future-me looked offended, Its a top hat! Top hats are cool! I like top hats, and so will
you, in time. Do you want to know what else is cool? Phoenixes! Theyre immortal, being born
from their deceased bodies that have become ashes. Born in death; you cant get much cooler
than that. Actually, there was a time when I met one personally. He was a nice enough bird, a bit
exuberant after a few drinks of pink lemonade, but he did make a killer chocolate milkshake.
Youll understand when youre older. He stopped and smiled, mostly to himself, Ive always
wanted to say that.
Wait, before we go any further, wont telling me something about the future might make
me avoid it, thus causing you, or future-me, to not have done whatever you told me, thus make
me not do it in the first place . . .
Now youre getting it! You have a point, so Ill leave!
Wait! Thats not fair! It was just a passing thought, me thinking aloud, you cant leave now! I
havent been able to ask you what I really wanted to ask, about my personal future. What do I
later on in life? What about my family? What does my brother do? My mom and dad, are they
okay? Some lottery numbers, perhaps? Please, stay and tell me more.
Future-me winked. You know, in my past, my future self also left as I made the exact same
point you did. I cant change what has already happened since the outcome of doing so could be
catastrophic. I might change the way the future unfolds if I tell you more than what was told to
me.
I wanted to argue more, but I knew I couldnt. Deep down, I knew these things couldnt be told
to me; I had to experience them and find out myself, and I hated myself for accepting this. I was
probably the first person to speak to a time traveler and all I asked about was his silly hat. I
would be shunned for the rest of my life if I ever told anyone, if they ever believed me.
You usually have some deep thought you like to think about all the time, my future self was
saying, so heres one: Trees. They are rooted into the ground, so they have seen the past.
However, as they grow, they witness the future happen around them; they have seen the first
automobile, the first aircraft, and the first space shuttle. And their branches can represent the
future as well: Each branch is a possibility, a way that humankind can go by. Only one is chosen,
and that branch is thicker and stronger than the rest. One last thing: 55 years into your future,
come back here, to this exact spot, and meet your younger self.
But, why here? Why, out of everywhere else, here?
Because, he said, a smile forming on his face, its the exact same tree from my past. It
has seen the future, and it will continue to do so for a long time.
With that, he got up and left, top hat still on his head. I intended to follow him, to see if I
could somehow see how exactly he got to the past, but I guess I didnt really want to know where
he went. After all, it was my future. I would experience it eventually.
This happened a few months ago, and I am just now retelling it. I still hate myself for not
trying to get more out of the encounter with my future self. There was so much I could have
asked and know. Maybe I could have prevented something horrible, or at least I might have been
able to save my family if something horrible did actually happen. Maybe the reason I didnt try
to find out more was because I just wasnt meant to know. Maybe, in knowing how to save my
family during a devastating event, I become the indirect murderer of countless other families.
Whatever the reason was for me not pursing more, all I can do is count the days until its my

time to go back to that tree, the one with the most shade, to meet my past self. I also need to get
myself a top hat. After all, they are quite cool.