2048: A New Era: Prolouge
Tristan and Riley were typically the first two members of their family to get up that did not have work. Their dad was usually up at around five o'clock and was in the car at around 6:00 am, depending on the day. The alarms for the kids started going off at about 6:15. Tristan was usually the first one up, and this morning his alarm went off at 6:15 as usual today. He turned off his alarm and rolled over so he was on the side of his bed. He rubbed his eyes, set his feet on the floor and grabbed his towel, and headed into the next room.
His five-foot frame was slightly smaller than most boys his age. His medium length dirty blonde hair was all over the place. On the back of his neck, he had a scar that almost looked like an oddly colored mole. If you looked at carefully enough, it almost looked like a cross. On the left side of his face, he has another relatively large scar that is more visible. Because of that one, people often treated him with respect, even with the way he received it. His skin in this light looked darker than during the day.
He typically showered in about 15 minutes, but he always kept a close eye on the clock to ensure that he was keeping up in order to get to the bus stop on time. The bus often arrived at about 7:00 am. He then stepped out of the shower and checked the clock on his phone. Good, he thought to himself as he realized that he was keeping the pace needed. He stepped into his room and closed the door. When he entered the room he checked the weather and found out that there was a chance of snow later in the day, the high being 35 degrees, which was a bit of an improvement over the last several days. It was late March in Vernon Hills, and around the time that the last snowstorm usually occurs. So, he dressed accordingly. Since he was planning to play a game later in the day, he grabbed his lacrosse bag and started to pack it.
Because there was a chance of snow later in the day, he decided he should pack his warmup sweatshirt from the summer club that he played for, so he headed over to his closet. He opened the door and grabbed the sweatshirt, and his sweatpants as well. He threw those things in his bag and then his cleats which were on the floor in that same closet. He then changed into a pair of jeans, sweatshirt, and threw on his fleece and headed downstairs.
At the bottom of the stairs, Tristan often ran into Riley as she opened the door to the basement and today was no different. His sister was 19 and the oldest of the kids in the family. When asked about what his sister looked like, he would often say that her hair was brown at the roots, and then the further out it went, the more blonde it became. Her skin is a couple of shades darker than his, and she had a bit more freckles than he does. When she smiled, her dimples form. Tristan had heard his friend Morgan describe her eyes as a beautiful shade of green, but he could never see it. One thing he did notice though was depending on her mood, the shade of her irises would shift.
***
As Tristan began walking towards the bus stop at the end of the street, he glanced at his phone. 6:50 it read. Good right on time! He paused for a second and looked around for his friend, Samuel, who he always met at the same spot each morning. He continued to walk after a few seconds. As he started to walk, he heard Samuel's door burst open, and turned around to see Samuel come trotting down the driveway, and turning his direction, backpack half on. "Sorry, I'm late," Samuel said
Tristan laughed, "You're good bud. It was only a few seconds."
It was often only after they had passed a couple of houses before the two of them really started to talk.
Samuel was five foot three and had longer hair than Tristan that is blonde in color. It naturally falls to the left, and over his right ear, if his hair was kept at the proper length it poofs out like an inch. Some would describe Samuel's eyes as unique, and different. His eyes were brown at the center of the eye around the pupil, and then after some time they changed to sky blue and have a different marbling to the actual iris. Just below and to the right of his right eye, he has a small scar. Samuel was fair skinned, with the occasional freckle. On the right side of his face, when he smiles he has a dimple. In fact, some people would describe his smile as more of a smirk, which often leads people to believe that he is rather mischievous when the complete opposite is truer. Almost always, he wears a cross on a chain around his neck which his dad gave to him the last time that Samuel saw him.
"So, what's up?" Tristan asked.
"Going to school, duh," Samuel replied.
Tristan rolled his eyes, and let out a chuckle and then noticed the club lacrosse bag hanging off of Samuels other shoulder. "You playing later?"
"Yeah. Can't wait. I just hope I still got it. I haven't played a game since last summer. I played wall ball a couple of times, but other than that, I'm kinda cold."
"Me too. I played a little bit of box during the offseason when I was not busy with basketball or soccer though"
"They have that?" Samuel asked.
"Yeah. It's over at the sports complex in Libertyville."
"Huh." He looked down at his feet.
"It's all good," Tristan replied.
By the time the conversation was finished, they were standing at the bus stop joined by their friend Morgan. Riley could drive to school but could only take one person with her, and Tristan always felt better going on the bus with all of his friends, rather than just sitting in the car with his sister.
***
It was a reasonably short ride to the school. It was five minutes give or take if you drove straight there, but if you were to take the bus, with the number of stops that the bus makes, you would get there by 7:20ish. More often than not, Tristan would have one earbud in, and one out so he would be able to talk to whoever was near him. Today though, there was a weird feeling throughout the bus ride. It was so quiet, that it left Tristan relatively unsettled.
They arrived at the usual time, and Tristan, Morgan, and Samuel made their way up to their lockers. Tristan always acknowledged the kids that he had classes with throughout the semester, and sometimes most everyone he would meet in passing. Today, though, the group took a short detour. Tristan noticed a few of his basketball teammates picking on one of the smaller kids in his graduating class. Things were starting to get physical. The leader of the group was shoving the smaller kid against a locker, and once or twice he slapped the kid across the face. Tristan decided to get closer to see what was going on. He recognized the antagonist as one of the forwards on his team.
As he got closer he was able to pick up some of the exchange, "You owe me assface!"
"For what?" The kid's voice sounded weak, and Tristan could see the fear in his eyes.
"Walking with you every day to class because you were 'Scared'." He put the word scared in air quotes, his voice sounding whiny, intending to make the victim feel as if he were not worth the trouble. Tristan had enough of it, and even though he was smaller than the antagonist, he broke through the circle that had formed, shoved the teammate off to the side, exercising the seniority he had over the antagonist during the season, hoping that it would get the kid to back off. He got as close to the antagonists face as possible and said, "That is not how we do things around here, what did you say, Assface, if I heard correctly?" A chorus of oos filled the hallway as the students that were watching the situation unfold backed up to give the two some space. The two students separated as Samuel tapped Tristan on the shoulder and whispered in his ear that he noticed a teacher starting to make an approach.
The teacher asked, "I hope everything is alright here."
Tristan and the teammate locked eyes for a second, Tristan beckoned the student over, and the student came towards him and wrapped his arm around Tristan's shoulder and the two of them nodded, "Yeah everything's fine here." The teacher then looked at the student that was now cowering against the wall. "You ok?" The teacher asked.
"Yeah. Fine." The student replied, still in shock that Tristan would stand up for him.
The teacher continued on her way, taking their word for it. Right as the teacher was out of earshot, Tristan shoved the student's arm off of his shoulder, made himself bigger and then scolded the student in a borderline whisper, "That is no way to treat somebody. You got it?" He hoped that this would work since he was the antagonist's captain during the basketball season. The kid stepped back, arms raised, as the two maintained eye contact for an intense 10 seconds. "Ok, I'll stop," the kid replied as he turned and went on his way.
Tristan glared at him for a bit and then turned his attention to the student that had been bullied. He knelt down beside him to help collect his things that were scattered about all around the floor. "Could I walk with you?" He asked as he helped the student up to his feet.
"Yeah. Sure. Thank you for that by the way," said the student, sounding rather small and surprised that one of the most popular kids in his graduating class would spend some time with him.
"No problem. It was my pleasure. What's your name?"
"Lucas."
"My name is Tristan if you are wondering. Where are you headed?"
"Just down the hallway to the right."
"Ok. You lead the way."
Samuel and Morgan hung back, no more than a pace or two behind. Before long, the students reached Lucas's locker. Tristan said goodbye and have a good day. He then headed toward the stairwell where Morgan and Samuel were waiting. The trio then went up the stairs to their lockers. When they arrived basically their entire group was waiting for them. The handshakes were aplenty when they arrived. Tristan shuffled to his locker and asked, "How many of you are still planning on playing today, even with a chance of snow?" A majority of the students raised their hands. "Good! We will be meeting at the field when school lets out."
They arrived at the usual time, and Tristan, Morgan, and Samuel made their way up to their lockers. Tristan always acknowledged the kids that he had classes with throughout the semester, and sometimes most everyone he would meet in passing. Today, though, the group took a short detour. Tristan noticed a few of his basketball teammates picking on one of the smaller kids in his graduating class. Things were starting to get physical. The leader of the group was shoving the smaller kid against a locker, and once or twice he slapped the kid across the face. Tristan decided to get closer to see what was going on. He recognized the antagonist as one of the forwards on his team.
As he got closer he was able to pick up some of the exchange, "You owe me assface!"
"For what?" The kid's voice sounded weak, and Tristan could see the fear in his eyes.
"Walking with you every day to class because you were 'Scared'." He put the word scared in air quotes, his voice sounding whiny, intending to make the victim feel as if he were not worth the trouble. Tristan had enough of it, and even though he was smaller than the antagonist, he broke through the circle that had formed, shoved the teammate off to the side, exercising the seniority he had over the antagonist during the season, hoping that it would get the kid to back off. He got as close to the antagonists face as possible and said, "That is not how we do things around here, what did you say, Assface, if I heard correctly?" A chorus of oos filled the hallway as the students that were watching the situation unfold backed up to give the two some space. The two students separated as Samuel tapped Tristan on the shoulder and whispered in his ear that he noticed a teacher starting to make an approach.
The teacher asked, "I hope everything is alright here."
Tristan and the teammate locked eyes for a second, Tristan beckoned the student over, and the student came towards him and wrapped his arm around Tristan's shoulder and the two of them nodded, "Yeah everything's fine here." The teacher then looked at the student that was now cowering against the wall. "You ok?" The teacher asked.
"Yeah. Fine." The student replied, still in shock that Tristan would stand up for him.
The teacher continued on her way, taking their word for it. Right as the teacher was out of earshot, Tristan shoved the student's arm off of his shoulder, made himself bigger and then scolded the student in a borderline whisper, "That is no way to treat somebody. You got it?" He hoped that this would work since he was the antagonist's captain during the basketball season. The kid stepped back, arms raised, as the two maintained eye contact for an intense 10 seconds. "Ok, I'll stop," the kid replied as he turned and went on his way.
Tristan glared at him for a bit and then turned his attention to the student that had been bullied. He knelt down beside him to help collect his things that were scattered about all around the floor. "Could I walk with you?" He asked as he helped the student up to his feet.
"Yeah. Sure. Thank you for that by the way," said the student, sounding rather small and surprised that one of the most popular kids in his graduating class would spend some time with him.
"No problem. It was my pleasure. What's your name?"
"Lucas."
"My name is Tristan if you are wondering. Where are you headed?"
"Just down the hallway to the right."
"Ok. You lead the way."
Samuel and Morgan hung back, no more than a pace or two behind. Before long, the students reached Lucas's locker. Tristan said goodbye and have a good day. He then headed toward the stairwell where Morgan and Samuel were waiting. The trio then went up the stairs to their lockers. When they arrived basically their entire group was waiting for them. The handshakes were aplenty when they arrived. Tristan shuffled to his locker and asked, "How many of you are still planning on playing today, even with a chance of snow?" A majority of the students raised their hands. "Good! We will be meeting at the field when school lets out."
***
About 20 minutes passed and the first bell rang.
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2.9.18
I turned over and took a peek at the clock sitting next to my bed. The clock read 12:30 am. Crap. I thought to myself as I laid there motionless. Getting tired of just lying awake, I pulled out the journal that I got when I went to England last winter break and started to write down my thoughts to help calm my brain. After about 20 minutes my phone started to ring. I scrambled over to my phone, knowing that eastern time is an hour ahead of central time. Though the number was not one I recognized, I read the location line, and it said Vernon Hills, IL. I knew people that lived there, so I answered the phone. There was no way to prepare me for what was about to happen.
When I answered it, I heard a relatively strong, though quiet voice come through the speaker. "Hello, is this my dad?" It asked. I had no idea how to respond.
I thought in silence for a bit trying to figure out the significance of what was happening. I then asked, "Who is this?"
"Tristan." The voice responded.
Taken aback, I thought back to my latest relationship. Our relationship was so serious that we had started talking about maybe baby names, and I realized that Tristan was one of the names that I came up with that I never shared. Blown away by what had just happened, I asked the only reasonable question I could think of, "Tristan, What year is it where you are calling from?"
"2048."
I ran some calculations through my head to figure out how old I would be at that time. Through some simple math, I discovered that it made sense that I would have a kid at that time, at that age. Tristan then interrupted my thoughts, "Could we switch to a video call, I want to see you."
"sure I don't know if it will work on my end if I switch it to a video call, you want to do the honors?"
"Sure," Tristan replied.
The longest two minutes ever passed, and then Tristan made the switch. Through some technology that I did not understand, Tristan was sitting right in front of me, In full color. He was wearing a really nice backpack, a snapback, and some futuristic neon green and gray Under Armor sweatshirt. Noticing his surroundings, I asked curiously, "Where are you right now?"
"In some weird bunker by the military base in Vernon Hills?"
I smiled, Grateful that at some point I may or may not be in the southeast, but the military base threw me for a loop, but then I realized that I was apparently talking to my kid something like 30 years into the future. What a moment, I thought to myself snickering a little. Once I regained myself, I asked another reasonable question, "Well how did you get there? and Why are you calling?"
"It's complicated. You may want to write what I am about to tell you and show you. I hope It will change the future."
"Concerned, I flipped the page and then grabbed the pencil I was using. "Go ahead."
His eyes went dark and looked as if he was looking off into the distance at something. "This all started on March 25 a couple of years ago..."
________________________________
2.9.18
I turned over and took a peek at the clock sitting next to my bed. The clock read 12:30 am. Crap. I thought to myself as I laid there motionless. Getting tired of just lying awake, I pulled out the journal that I got when I went to England last winter break and started to write down my thoughts to help calm my brain. After about 20 minutes my phone started to ring. I scrambled over to my phone, knowing that eastern time is an hour ahead of central time. Though the number was not one I recognized, I read the location line, and it said Vernon Hills, IL. I knew people that lived there, so I answered the phone. There was no way to prepare me for what was about to happen.
When I answered it, I heard a relatively strong, though quiet voice come through the speaker. "Hello, is this my dad?" It asked. I had no idea how to respond.
I thought in silence for a bit trying to figure out the significance of what was happening. I then asked, "Who is this?"
"Tristan." The voice responded.
Taken aback, I thought back to my latest relationship. Our relationship was so serious that we had started talking about maybe baby names, and I realized that Tristan was one of the names that I came up with that I never shared. Blown away by what had just happened, I asked the only reasonable question I could think of, "Tristan, What year is it where you are calling from?"
"2048."
I ran some calculations through my head to figure out how old I would be at that time. Through some simple math, I discovered that it made sense that I would have a kid at that time, at that age. Tristan then interrupted my thoughts, "Could we switch to a video call, I want to see you."
"sure I don't know if it will work on my end if I switch it to a video call, you want to do the honors?"
"Sure," Tristan replied.
The longest two minutes ever passed, and then Tristan made the switch. Through some technology that I did not understand, Tristan was sitting right in front of me, In full color. He was wearing a really nice backpack, a snapback, and some futuristic neon green and gray Under Armor sweatshirt. Noticing his surroundings, I asked curiously, "Where are you right now?"
"In some weird bunker by the military base in Vernon Hills?"
I smiled, Grateful that at some point I may or may not be in the southeast, but the military base threw me for a loop, but then I realized that I was apparently talking to my kid something like 30 years into the future. What a moment, I thought to myself snickering a little. Once I regained myself, I asked another reasonable question, "Well how did you get there? and Why are you calling?"
"It's complicated. You may want to write what I am about to tell you and show you. I hope It will change the future."
"Concerned, I flipped the page and then grabbed the pencil I was using. "Go ahead."
His eyes went dark and looked as if he was looking off into the distance at something. "This all started on March 25 a couple of years ago..."