David still couldn't believe it. He didn't want to believe it.
But, it was true. . . his best friend Lizzie McGuire was dead.
She died on July 31, 2003, on a cool, misty rainy night. That night, she was involved in a horrific car accident on the Pacific Coast Highway. . .she lost control of her car on the slick wet highway and her car careened into the cliffside, killing her instantly. Lizzie was sixteen years old on the night she passed away.
At Lizzie's funeral, David stared blankly at the ceiling while the minister gave the eulogy. He was in absolute denial. He still couldn't fathom the cold hard truth. . . his best friend, the girl that he had quietly, secretly loved, was gone, forever. Or, so he thought. . .
********************************************************************
12 years later . . .
The year was 2015. David was 28 years old, a successful filmmaker living in Santa Monica, California. He had everything that anyone could ever want. . .fame, success, wealth, friends, family, and a beautiful girlfriend. Yet, something was terribly wrong in his life. An emptiness has haunted him for the past 15 years, an emptiness that he simply has not been able to shake. An emptiness so intense that on some days, he thought it would consume his entire being and rip his fragile soul apart. Something was missing in his life. Or, more accurately, *someone* was missing in his life.
Lizzie, I miss you so much, muttered David during a restless sleep. Lizzie, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry. . .
*********************************************************************
The next day, David woke up from his slumber, let out a deep yawn, then trudged into the bathroom to take a shower. His girlfriend, an actress, was in New York City to shoot a music video, so he was by himself this during a long July weekend. He didn't quite know what to do with himself; he had just finished the final edits on his most recent feature film and had three days before he began working on his next project.
After his shower, he had some lox and bagel for brunch, with coffee, of course; he simply had to have his morning coffee in order for him to be functional during the day.
After cleaning his plate, he wandered outside and sat himself down on a lawn chair resting next to his swimming pool. The sun was in a rather pleasant mood today, and it generously sprayed its sunbeams all over him.
Okay, what should I do today? Don't feel like taking a swim, don't feel like hanging out with my buddies, don't feel like doing much of anything. . .
He thought for awhile, then picked himself up from the lawn chair and headed into his work room. I'm going to play with my new ham radio, what a perfect way to spend a lazy Saturday! He had just purchased his fifth vintage ham radio from an antique store, a radio straight from the sixties.
David's history with ham radios went back 13 years. His parents purchased a ham radio on E-Bay and gave it to him as his fifteenth birthday present. They knew that he liked vintage collectibles like eight-track players, phonographs, and betamax video recorders, and so they anticipated that he would thoroughly enjoy owning a vintage ham radio.
They were right. David took to the radio like a duck to water. He would constantly play with it, and he persistently tried to coax his friends Lizzie and Miranda to get their own ham radios, to no avail. Girls, thought Gordo, they just don't get the beauty of talking on a ham radio..
His love affair with ham radios continued into his adulthood, and whenever he had the chance, he would turn on his ham radio to find someone to chat with. He would often get on it and chat with truck drivers and anyone else he could catch. He found his radio a great way to escape from the stress of his everyday life.
********************************************************************
David grabbed a coke from the fridge and headed straight to his desk and to his ham radio. He flopped into his chair and immediately turned the radio on.
While he was waiting to hear from someone over his ham radio, the weather suddenly took an unusual turn. . . the bright sunny sky instantly turned grey, as clouds angrily covered up the sun and showered the day with brilliant darkness. Lightning soon followed, with thunder not too far behind. A warm lazy day was instantaneously transformed into an intense, moody afternoon.
He watched the sky turn a blackened grey outside his window. He could feel the electricity in the air. The wind was picking up, howling and whistling with frantic fervor. He could feel it. . . there was something going on out there, something out of the ordinary.
As he watched the rain violently lash itself onto the earth, he was startled to hear a raspy voice on his ham radio. "Hello, anyone there?"
David pulled his face close to the microphone and said, "Hey there! Can you hear me?"
He heard static, then a faint voice that replied, "Yeah, I can hear ya! What's up? Is the electric storm happening where you are, too?"
David replied, "That's right, good buddy. It's really intense out there! It's absolutely amazing!"
The voice replied, "Definitely. So, hey, what's your name? My name's David Gordon, but my friends call me Gordo."
Huh? David stared into his ham radio microphone, completely dumbfounded. I'm talking to a David who's nickname also is Gordo? What are the chances of that?
David replied, "That's funny, Gordo, because my name is David Gordon and my friends also call me Gordo!"
"Whoa! Very twilight zone-ish. It's like I'm meeting my long lost twin. So, how's it going, "Gordo?" Geez, it's so weird calling someone else my name! I'm sixteen, by the way, and I go to Hillridge High School."
This is getting even weirder, thought the 28 year old Gordo. He replied, "Really? That's funny, because I'm a graduate of Hillridge High!"
"Whoa again! Two David Gordons, both nicknamed Gordo, both students of Hillridge High, talking to each other over a ham radio during an electrical storm. What are the odds of that happening? When did you graduate, by the way?"
"I graduated in 2005."
Silence. "Uh, is this a joke?"
"A joke? Uh, no. Really, I graduated 10 years ago in May of 2005."
"Ha-ha, that's really funny, man. What, and you're really Jesus Christ, too, right?"
"What are you talking about? Are you okay?"
"What do you mean, what am I talking about? This is the year 2003, man. Unless I'm talking to someone from the future, or more accurately, unless I'm talking to someone who needs some serious psychiatric help, this is the year 2003."
Huh? "No, Gordo, this is the year 2015. 2003 was 12 years ago. Are you playing some sort of practical joke? Is this Barry? No, no, you're Tudgeman, right?"
"2015? No way, man. No way. This is the year 2003, I repeat, this is the year 2003. Hey, you seem a little. . . unsettled. Look, if you need some counseling or therapy, my dad's a psychiatrist, he could help you. And, when you mentioned Tudgeman . . . you didn't mean Larry Tudgeman, do you?"
What in the world is going on? This other "Gordo" also has a Larry Tudgeman as his friend? And a psychiatrist dad as well? David's head started to spin. He started to think the unthinkable. . .this can't be happening, this isn't real. No, it can't, thought David. Yet, the boy's voice sounded so much like. . . his own.
It was happening, it was real. David Gordon, age 28, was talking on a ham radio with a sixteen year old version of himself.
*******************************************************
Author's Note: This story is a time travel romantic L/G fantasy; inspired by two films: Frequency and The Kid. Yes, the story's a bit quirky, but hopefully its piqued your curiosity. Please read and review!
But, it was true. . . his best friend Lizzie McGuire was dead.
She died on July 31, 2003, on a cool, misty rainy night. That night, she was involved in a horrific car accident on the Pacific Coast Highway. . .she lost control of her car on the slick wet highway and her car careened into the cliffside, killing her instantly. Lizzie was sixteen years old on the night she passed away.
At Lizzie's funeral, David stared blankly at the ceiling while the minister gave the eulogy. He was in absolute denial. He still couldn't fathom the cold hard truth. . . his best friend, the girl that he had quietly, secretly loved, was gone, forever. Or, so he thought. . .
********************************************************************
12 years later . . .
The year was 2015. David was 28 years old, a successful filmmaker living in Santa Monica, California. He had everything that anyone could ever want. . .fame, success, wealth, friends, family, and a beautiful girlfriend. Yet, something was terribly wrong in his life. An emptiness has haunted him for the past 15 years, an emptiness that he simply has not been able to shake. An emptiness so intense that on some days, he thought it would consume his entire being and rip his fragile soul apart. Something was missing in his life. Or, more accurately, *someone* was missing in his life.
Lizzie, I miss you so much, muttered David during a restless sleep. Lizzie, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry. . .
*********************************************************************
The next day, David woke up from his slumber, let out a deep yawn, then trudged into the bathroom to take a shower. His girlfriend, an actress, was in New York City to shoot a music video, so he was by himself this during a long July weekend. He didn't quite know what to do with himself; he had just finished the final edits on his most recent feature film and had three days before he began working on his next project.
After his shower, he had some lox and bagel for brunch, with coffee, of course; he simply had to have his morning coffee in order for him to be functional during the day.
After cleaning his plate, he wandered outside and sat himself down on a lawn chair resting next to his swimming pool. The sun was in a rather pleasant mood today, and it generously sprayed its sunbeams all over him.
Okay, what should I do today? Don't feel like taking a swim, don't feel like hanging out with my buddies, don't feel like doing much of anything. . .
He thought for awhile, then picked himself up from the lawn chair and headed into his work room. I'm going to play with my new ham radio, what a perfect way to spend a lazy Saturday! He had just purchased his fifth vintage ham radio from an antique store, a radio straight from the sixties.
David's history with ham radios went back 13 years. His parents purchased a ham radio on E-Bay and gave it to him as his fifteenth birthday present. They knew that he liked vintage collectibles like eight-track players, phonographs, and betamax video recorders, and so they anticipated that he would thoroughly enjoy owning a vintage ham radio.
They were right. David took to the radio like a duck to water. He would constantly play with it, and he persistently tried to coax his friends Lizzie and Miranda to get their own ham radios, to no avail. Girls, thought Gordo, they just don't get the beauty of talking on a ham radio..
His love affair with ham radios continued into his adulthood, and whenever he had the chance, he would turn on his ham radio to find someone to chat with. He would often get on it and chat with truck drivers and anyone else he could catch. He found his radio a great way to escape from the stress of his everyday life.
********************************************************************
David grabbed a coke from the fridge and headed straight to his desk and to his ham radio. He flopped into his chair and immediately turned the radio on.
While he was waiting to hear from someone over his ham radio, the weather suddenly took an unusual turn. . . the bright sunny sky instantly turned grey, as clouds angrily covered up the sun and showered the day with brilliant darkness. Lightning soon followed, with thunder not too far behind. A warm lazy day was instantaneously transformed into an intense, moody afternoon.
He watched the sky turn a blackened grey outside his window. He could feel the electricity in the air. The wind was picking up, howling and whistling with frantic fervor. He could feel it. . . there was something going on out there, something out of the ordinary.
As he watched the rain violently lash itself onto the earth, he was startled to hear a raspy voice on his ham radio. "Hello, anyone there?"
David pulled his face close to the microphone and said, "Hey there! Can you hear me?"
He heard static, then a faint voice that replied, "Yeah, I can hear ya! What's up? Is the electric storm happening where you are, too?"
David replied, "That's right, good buddy. It's really intense out there! It's absolutely amazing!"
The voice replied, "Definitely. So, hey, what's your name? My name's David Gordon, but my friends call me Gordo."
Huh? David stared into his ham radio microphone, completely dumbfounded. I'm talking to a David who's nickname also is Gordo? What are the chances of that?
David replied, "That's funny, Gordo, because my name is David Gordon and my friends also call me Gordo!"
"Whoa! Very twilight zone-ish. It's like I'm meeting my long lost twin. So, how's it going, "Gordo?" Geez, it's so weird calling someone else my name! I'm sixteen, by the way, and I go to Hillridge High School."
This is getting even weirder, thought the 28 year old Gordo. He replied, "Really? That's funny, because I'm a graduate of Hillridge High!"
"Whoa again! Two David Gordons, both nicknamed Gordo, both students of Hillridge High, talking to each other over a ham radio during an electrical storm. What are the odds of that happening? When did you graduate, by the way?"
"I graduated in 2005."
Silence. "Uh, is this a joke?"
"A joke? Uh, no. Really, I graduated 10 years ago in May of 2005."
"Ha-ha, that's really funny, man. What, and you're really Jesus Christ, too, right?"
"What are you talking about? Are you okay?"
"What do you mean, what am I talking about? This is the year 2003, man. Unless I'm talking to someone from the future, or more accurately, unless I'm talking to someone who needs some serious psychiatric help, this is the year 2003."
Huh? "No, Gordo, this is the year 2015. 2003 was 12 years ago. Are you playing some sort of practical joke? Is this Barry? No, no, you're Tudgeman, right?"
"2015? No way, man. No way. This is the year 2003, I repeat, this is the year 2003. Hey, you seem a little. . . unsettled. Look, if you need some counseling or therapy, my dad's a psychiatrist, he could help you. And, when you mentioned Tudgeman . . . you didn't mean Larry Tudgeman, do you?"
What in the world is going on? This other "Gordo" also has a Larry Tudgeman as his friend? And a psychiatrist dad as well? David's head started to spin. He started to think the unthinkable. . .this can't be happening, this isn't real. No, it can't, thought David. Yet, the boy's voice sounded so much like. . . his own.
It was happening, it was real. David Gordon, age 28, was talking on a ham radio with a sixteen year old version of himself.
*******************************************************
Author's Note: This story is a time travel romantic L/G fantasy; inspired by two films: Frequency and The Kid. Yes, the story's a bit quirky, but hopefully its piqued your curiosity. Please read and review!