wasnât scary. No, not anymore. I had done this so many times now that I wasnât afraid of what was going to happen. It was more anticipation.
No matter how much I had prepared, no matterhow much I had researched, it was impossible to predict exactly what was going to happen when I arrived at the Polo Grounds. I would have to be ready for anything.
I took a deep breath and removed the rubber gloves. I picked up the Branca card in my right hand. Closing my eyes, I thought about 1951. Mentally, I willed myself not to think about the Korean War. I didnât want to end up in Korea, that was for sure. Iâd already been there, with Ted Williams, and almost got killed. No, I wanted to go to New York City.
Take me to 1951 , I thought.
I fingered the money in my pocket that my mom had given me. Maybe Iâll buy a candy bar when I get to New York , I thought. Back in 1951, you could get a candy bar for a nickel. Everything was cheaper back then. I could buy just about anything I wanted.
Soon, I had the sense that something was happening to me. The buzzy feeling came to my fingertips, the way it always does. It was gentle at first, like a cat purring, or a string on a guitar vibrating. It felt nice.
I knew what was going to happen next. The tingling sensation was going to move, to spread. It went from the tips of my right fingers up my hand, across my wrist, and throughout my whole arm. I felt like my arm had fallen asleep because Iâd slept on it the wrong way.
And then, while I was thinking about that, I felt my whole chest vibrating. I had reached the point ofno return now. Even if I dropped the card at that moment, it was too late to reverse what I had started. I was going back in time whether I wanted to or not. I hoped that I hadnât screwed anything up in my preparation.
What if the Branca card wasnât really from 1951? What if I arrived in January instead of October? There were so many things that could go wrong.
Too late to worry about that stuff. My whole body was tingling now. What a feeling! Suddenly it was like I was twenty pounds lighter, and then fifty pounds lighter. It was as if I was becoming weightless. I felt like I could just rise up off the bed like a balloon and float around the room, the way astronauts do in zero gravity. Thatâs how light I felt.
I fought the temptation to open my eyes and watch what I knew was going to happen next. It would be so cool to watch myself disappear, but maybe a little frightening at the same time. So I kept my eyes closed.
Take me to 1951 , I kept repeating to myself. Take me to 1951.
And then, I vanished.
W HEN I OPENED MY EYES , I WAS HIT BY A BLAST OF BRIGHT sunlight that forced me to squint and turn my head away. It was morning, that was for sure. I could tell by the angle of the sun in the sky. It was probably around nine oâclock, maybe even earlier.
I checked to see if all my body parts were in the right places, and that I had all the stuff I had brought with me. Check, check, check. Nothing missing.
I looked around. Ticket booths. Gate D. So far, so good. I was at the Polo Grounds.
The Branca card was still in my hand, luckily. It was worth a lot of money, and I didnât want to lose it. I slipped it into my shirt pocket for safekeeping. The umbrella and the other stuff, I didnât need. I left it all on a bench for somebody else to pick up. Mom might be mad, but I like to travellight. Iâd tell her I lost it.
For once in my life, it looked like I had landed exactly where I wanted to be. Usually, when I went back in time, I landed someplace near where I wanted to be. Then I had to find the way to my destination. Time travel would probably never be an exact science. But this time, things were looking better than usual.
There werenât any people around, but that didnât surprise me. Day games usually start around one oâclock in the afternoon. The players wouldnât be arriving for a few hours. I
Learning to Kill: Stories