November 21, 2072

Benton Arbor Michigan

A car drove and parked in front of the small house. The door of the limousine opened and two men helped a very old centenarian walk out. The man was 104 years old. He had the determination of a Multiverse who wanted to grant him one wish.

Alain walked slowly to the door helped and rang. One of the two men, guiding him also was holding a boxed present.

“Yes,” answered Susan.

“Is this the house of Susan and Laurent Lapierre?”

“Yes. Are you Mister Villeneuve?”

“Can I come in, I brought a gift for the birthday girl. There is no place or person I would rather be with at the moment.”

Susan knew better and waved the old man in. They knew him and owed him a favor. Once inside, he looked around. He knew this place very well, he saw this doorstep fifty years ago in his dreams as he wrote Marilyn’s feeble attempt at welcoming the girl in the Center. On the mirror were drawings of the little family, there were parents, a little girl and a younger brother.

The man saw Laurent who got up from the living room to help the man sit. In the back, Susan had inflated several balloons which floated to the ceiling.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

“I see you are both well,” said the old man. Laurent knew better than to challenge the old man. “This fills me with joy.”

“We thank you for accepting to change our names in the story,” said the father kindly.

“That is fine. I just wanted to wait after the date of the car accident. You never know. I saw you play Electoral 2072, quite a performance. What does your daughter think of her father being a Senator?”

“She does not care, never watched a game. Horseback riding is her new thing.”

“I have a gift for,” he pretended not to know her name as not to appear improper.

“Sophie,” completed Laurent. You can’t even say her name, can’t you?”

“Sir, I saw that accident vividly many times. Every angle. No, it’s still too difficult for me.”

“Sophie!” yelled the father loud enough for someone on the upper floor to hear him. Soon enough the young girl ran down the stairs two at a time, jumping half of them. The old man began to cry. He forced himself to look the other way. She stood there, feet from him but he was unable to look at her as if not to jinx her new found happiness. It was her, in her simple self feet from him.

“Yes?”

“This kind man brought you a gift it seems.” Laurent took the box from him.

“I don’t want it,” said the young rebel.

The old man, without looking up spoke softly, “I knew you would say that, but this is different. It should remind you of something.”

Sophie opened the box and pulled out a large white plush toy. The dog was wearing a dog tag which read Oscar. Her demeanor changed as she inspected it.

“I like him, thank you.”

“My own dog was called Oscar, I added that to my story about you.” The man needed to get a hold of himself. He finally looked at her. “I must go, my time is short and I don’t want to intrude but I have put you down as my heir to my fortune.”

“I don’t care.”

“I know you don’t. But there is no one I trust more.”

Sophie turned to her father, “Mallik can’t touch it, right, it’s just for me, right dad?”

“It is.”