“Alright alright everybody get in your seats. Come on quiet down. The bell has rung it’s time to start class, that means all conversations stop. Yes even you Mr. Gregory,” Professor Harrington said as he laid his briefcase on his chestnut desk and eyed Greg carefully. “Okay, there is one more month of classes left. You are not done with me yet. I have decided that this year will come to a close not on lectures or final tests, but instead a project.”
Murmurs of annoyed college students aroused in the room while Professor Harrington walked routinely to the front of the class.
“Quiet down! You all should be relieved. One more class of just my voice, I’m sure you can’t handle it anymore. I’m retiring this year, and I’m sure all of you have forgotten. I don’t want to end my days here at Clifton College like any other professor. I will not tolerate any of that “Last Lecture” talk in this room. I want a final project from my last group of technology students. So please, do this project for me, not the grade I’m sure you will earn.”
Silence struck the crowd, and I sat there all ears, awaiting what my favorite professor was going to announce as our project.
“Now, listen carefully. All of you have been in this class a total of 130 days. You should know enough by now to be making toasters if not atomic bombs transmitted through cell phones. I want creativity people! I want pure ingenious state of the art technology from all of you. You will build an invention that no one has ever thought to be possible. From the light bulb to the robots the sky is your limit. Think outside the box.” He then stopped and reviewed what he would say next. “This isn’t going to be like the usual projects I assign. I have thought it over and over with intense depth. I have come to the conclusion that after this moment, I will give little to no critic or guidance on what you all will build. I don’t want to interfere, but know I will always be watching. I will keep an eye on all of you to be sure everyone is making evident progress.” Professor Harrington then clapped his hands in closure and announced, “alright, you all may begin.”
With blank paper and my carpentry pencil in front of me, I formulated what seemed like thousands of brilliant unique ideas on what to create for Professor H. But after each newly imagined idea my conscience got in the way and I thought to myself, “what is creative, useful, and actually wanted in the time period where people already have virtually everything?” My eager attitude slowly wore off into complete disgust and irritation for my brain was not allowing the perfect innovation to come to mind.
Once class let out I still had no usable ideas; so I stormed silently to my dorm, skipping dinner, and going straight to bed.
I collapsed dramatically on my stiff old bed and quickly drifted into unconsciousness. I’m not much of a dreamer, most dreams-if I have them-are pointless or confusing and are often forgotten by morning. But this dream was like no other, so vivid, so real, like it could actually happen. Like I could make it happen…
I nearly ran to Professor Harrington’s classroom. All my excitement for the project came back to life and I had to begin work immediately. I barged through the old wooden door and went directly to my lab table.
“Excuse me, Miss Daniella. What may I ask are you doing?”
I turned to Professor Harrington with a look of confusion and excitement then answered, “I’m working on my project, I have the greatest idea! It came to me in a dream!”
“I don’t mean to un-lighten your mood, but sweetie you sound perhaps like the most barbaric student I’ve ever come across. I mean, look at yourself, your wearing cookie monster pajama pants for heavens sake!”
I busied myself with work as he talked, then responded, “Professor, I don’t think you understand… I could change the world!”
“I’m sure you could… but it’s 6 AM, and you have four other classes to attend. You haven’t had a bite of breakfast, and have already taken out approximately twenty six items to use in your project. Do you have any idea how loony you are right now?”
“Not a chance. But hey, has anyone ever told you you sound like an Englishman in the morning?”
“Good grief, what will this establishment do with students like you when I leave?…”
Un-phased by the short conversation, I quickly drafted my model on blueprints and began to cut and weld metal frames together. I was running completely off adrenaline, using all my energy before I crashed. I searched my brain as forcefully as I could to remember the drafted blueprints in my dream. I smashed my eyelids together, reviewing what the contraption looked like. My memory of the dream was wearing off fast, but as I worked little pieces of déjà vu came alive. I knew I was making it right. Each episode was like a checkpoint, as long as I kept reaching the checkpoints I knew I was doing everything like my dream.
I must have worked in the technology shop for the entire day. By the time I left, I was starved and all the food in the cafeteria was cold. What time was it? I looked to the wall to the right of me, 3AM, figures…
I went ahead and picked up three slices of cheese pizza, grabbed a Gatorade, and headed back to my dorm. I ate it all in under 10 minutes and fell asleep soon after.
The next morning, I awoke as if it were any other day with no remembered dream. I was hoping that I could get new ideas from my barely explored imagination, but there was nothing.
I carried on with my regular classes today, but when technology came I stayed until 3AM again. This routine went on for three more weeks. Exhausted now, but just about finished with my project, all I need is final touches. Nearing the end of the class year, we have 6 more days left of school and I haven’t heard one word out of Professor Harrington since he called me “loony.” Until today…
“Excuse me,” he began. “I don’t mean to interrupt but I have made a slight revision to the project. I have already said it needs to be creative and ingenious, but I would like to add something. I want your innovative projects to work. I want them to be usable, efficient, and able to properly run on their own without difficulty. I apologize for this last minute of new criteria, but what will your project be worth without the ability to use it? Carry on.”
I surveyed the room after his surprising announcement, not a single student was back at working. Everyone was frozen in place. Was I the only one who made something that can actually work? Well, could work?
Today should be the day then, it’s final. I travel back in time today.
I walked to the desk of Professor Harrington’s.
“Go back to work Daniella…”
“I wanted to tell you that I will be leaving.”
“I beg your pardon? Where will you be going?”
“Year 1921.”
He stopped his work, then slowly looked to me. His old tired face expressed confusion, disbelief, and astonishment. I couldn’t help but pull up a smile of smug happiness. His reaction was exactly what I had anticipated. His mouth was left open like he was going to try and say something, but no words came out. All he could manage was, “I wish you luck,” and even then, his voice was strained and cracked. Should I be afraid like he is?
I shoved the thought from my mind. ”No!” I demanded to myself. My machine is perfect, I know it inside and out and there are no holes in my calculations. I will go back in time and Professor Harrington’s reluctant response will not hold me back.
I want answers.
I walked back to my project strutting confidence and determination, but a small part of me was left behind at the chestnut desk. Though I may have looked proud on the outside, I could literally feel myself crumbling down on the inside.
What if it doesn’t work? Will my dream remain in my imagination? What if I never find the answers?
What ifs surrounded me everywhere, all suffocating me.
I laid my hand on the cold silver metal of my project and closed my eyes.
“Just think back to the dream,” I thought. “Review everything, every nut and bolt of the operation. Remember, remember the mission.”
The flow of my dream came back alive.
I was sitting in my wooden desk chair, clutching my gold cameo necklace, like my life depended on it. I was crying, I felt alone, I felt like I didn’t exist. I got up and walked around the dim lighted room, the project was sitting under a large green sheet, covered from dust. Then at my desk were piles of drafted blueprints. Drafts, models, equations, figures, and numbers were all sketched across each sheet. Slowly my dream was fading, everything wiped away clean, but I remembered.
“Daniella,” professor Harrington whispered behind me. “May I see you in the hallway?”
I followed behind him and I could feel everyone’s stares burning coldly through my back. Professor never takes his students out of the classroom. He says it disrupts the environment, and nothing will get done in class afterwards because of the distraction it causes. The first time I heard this, I thought it to be silly, but now I understand.
“I apologize now, but I have to know! What was the dream you talked about, why do you need to go back to year 1921? I don’t understand why it’s so important Ms. Daniella, I don’t. Are you really going back? Do you know if it will work? I think this is a very, very bad, dangerous idea. What were you thinking, a time machine! Really? Please, say something!”
“You’re the one who said you want our projects to work. I made mine capable of working before it was a requirement. I don’t see why this is a bad idea. I thought you would have been proud, excited, ecstatic even. Professor, I want answers just as much as you do right now. That’s why I’m going back.”
“Idiocy and genius are two awfully different things Daniella. What do you need to know so badly? Please, I’m worried for you.”
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I need to eventually tell somebody, right? Professor is trustworthy. It’s okay.
“It’s a rather long story, I’m not sure the hallway is an appropriate place for me to tell you everything. I can stay after class, I can tell you then.”
He looked unsure of the idea, like he couldn’t trust me.
“I’m not going anywhere until we have talked, okay? Don’t worry,” I reassured him. Without eye contact he gave a slight head nod and opened the door for me. The rest of class I sat at my desk and watched the clock. Slow minutes ticked by, and I even considered using my time machine to speed up class.
At last, the bell rang and class was dismissed. Before everyone had even left, Professor Harrington came to sit at the desk next to me.
“Explain,” he demanded.
“It’s a long story-”
“And I have the time, explain.”
Startled by his urgency, I began with the dream, telling him all that I could remember, which was extremely hazy. Then I started to share why the time machine was so important and why I want to go back.
“The necklace I was clutching in the dream, you see,” I said as I showed him the necklace around my neck. “I received it from a complete stranger when I was born. My parents were told to keep it safe, for it to never get lost. The stranger said it was expensive, rare, and incredibly special. They said that it will belong to me and I will soon know why. At the time, my parents were completely confused just as you were 40 minutes ago. But when I had that dream, it all made sense. I want to go back to figure out who is the girl on my necklace. That means finding the artist too, luckily he signed his name on the back and put the date it was made and where. I’m going back in time to find out why this necklace is so important, and why I have it now.”
“But how do you know your machine will work? You haven’t test run it once, and it all came from a dream.”
“I guess we will have to test run it on me now, and have faith my dream actually knows something.”
Professor looked away from me, he knew I couldn’t be convinced not to go.
“Would you like to help me?” I offered.
His eyes shot at me, but answered, “Grab your coat and tell me what to do.”
I smiled in return, obeyed, and got up to go to my project.
“Okay, so all you have to do is type in the date, December 16, 1921, and the destination, New York City, then press the green button when I say to. It’s that simple.”
He slowly began typing and I jumped in the machine. Standing on the white platform, metal surrounded me in a oval egg like shape.
I continued with directions, “You will know if I got to that date when the green button turns off. Then you’ll know when I’m coming back when the button turns from red to blue to yellow rapidly. You’ll also hear the machine start up again.” I then closed the machine door and locked it carefully.
“Sounds simple. You know, you were always one of my favorites Miss Daniella. It’s too bad that it has all come down to this.”
“Professor what are you talking about?”
“Thank you for making what I never could. I’ll take good care of it, don’t you worry.”
“What do you mean? Your making me nervous…”
“Have fun in 1921. Don’t get lost. It is a big city.”
“Professor?”
I began to try to get out, but the machine started this horrible motion, similar to spinning. Making me extremely dizzy, but I wasn’t moving. It felt as if all the walls closed in so tight that I was being crushed. I could barely breath and the atmosphere was intensely pressured. Like sand being turned into a pearl, or coal into diamonds. I was panicking.
But suddenly everything stopped. I felt light as a feather and very cold. I opened my eyes. The bright sun blinded me and it took some time to adjust. But I couldn’t believe what I saw seeing; it had to be a dream.
White snow blanketed the entire city. I was standing on a hill above New York about half a mile away. Seeing thousands of classic Ford Model T cars and taxis in many different colors flying up and down the streets. People everywhere, all going somewhere. It looked like madness but I fell in love with the city instantly.
So with cheers to the journey that will soon commence, I whispered in triumph, “I did it.” With my present behind me and past in front of me, I started towards the city.
Murmurs of annoyed college students aroused in the room while Professor Harrington walked routinely to the front of the class.
“Quiet down! You all should be relieved. One more class of just my voice, I’m sure you can’t handle it anymore. I’m retiring this year, and I’m sure all of you have forgotten. I don’t want to end my days here at Clifton College like any other professor. I will not tolerate any of that “Last Lecture” talk in this room. I want a final project from my last group of technology students. So please, do this project for me, not the grade I’m sure you will earn.”
Silence struck the crowd, and I sat there all ears, awaiting what my favorite professor was going to announce as our project.
“Now, listen carefully. All of you have been in this class a total of 130 days. You should know enough by now to be making toasters if not atomic bombs transmitted through cell phones. I want creativity people! I want pure ingenious state of the art technology from all of you. You will build an invention that no one has ever thought to be possible. From the light bulb to the robots the sky is your limit. Think outside the box.” He then stopped and reviewed what he would say next. “This isn’t going to be like the usual projects I assign. I have thought it over and over with intense depth. I have come to the conclusion that after this moment, I will give little to no critic or guidance on what you all will build. I don’t want to interfere, but know I will always be watching. I will keep an eye on all of you to be sure everyone is making evident progress.” Professor Harrington then clapped his hands in closure and announced, “alright, you all may begin.”
With blank paper and my carpentry pencil in front of me, I formulated what seemed like thousands of brilliant unique ideas on what to create for Professor H. But after each newly imagined idea my conscience got in the way and I thought to myself, “what is creative, useful, and actually wanted in the time period where people already have virtually everything?” My eager attitude slowly wore off into complete disgust and irritation for my brain was not allowing the perfect innovation to come to mind.
Once class let out I still had no usable ideas; so I stormed silently to my dorm, skipping dinner, and going straight to bed.
I collapsed dramatically on my stiff old bed and quickly drifted into unconsciousness. I’m not much of a dreamer, most dreams-if I have them-are pointless or confusing and are often forgotten by morning. But this dream was like no other, so vivid, so real, like it could actually happen. Like I could make it happen…
I nearly ran to Professor Harrington’s classroom. All my excitement for the project came back to life and I had to begin work immediately. I barged through the old wooden door and went directly to my lab table.
“Excuse me, Miss Daniella. What may I ask are you doing?”
I turned to Professor Harrington with a look of confusion and excitement then answered, “I’m working on my project, I have the greatest idea! It came to me in a dream!”
“I don’t mean to un-lighten your mood, but sweetie you sound perhaps like the most barbaric student I’ve ever come across. I mean, look at yourself, your wearing cookie monster pajama pants for heavens sake!”
I busied myself with work as he talked, then responded, “Professor, I don’t think you understand… I could change the world!”
“I’m sure you could… but it’s 6 AM, and you have four other classes to attend. You haven’t had a bite of breakfast, and have already taken out approximately twenty six items to use in your project. Do you have any idea how loony you are right now?”
“Not a chance. But hey, has anyone ever told you you sound like an Englishman in the morning?”
“Good grief, what will this establishment do with students like you when I leave?…”
Un-phased by the short conversation, I quickly drafted my model on blueprints and began to cut and weld metal frames together. I was running completely off adrenaline, using all my energy before I crashed. I searched my brain as forcefully as I could to remember the drafted blueprints in my dream. I smashed my eyelids together, reviewing what the contraption looked like. My memory of the dream was wearing off fast, but as I worked little pieces of déjà vu came alive. I knew I was making it right. Each episode was like a checkpoint, as long as I kept reaching the checkpoints I knew I was doing everything like my dream.
I must have worked in the technology shop for the entire day. By the time I left, I was starved and all the food in the cafeteria was cold. What time was it? I looked to the wall to the right of me, 3AM, figures…
I went ahead and picked up three slices of cheese pizza, grabbed a Gatorade, and headed back to my dorm. I ate it all in under 10 minutes and fell asleep soon after.
The next morning, I awoke as if it were any other day with no remembered dream. I was hoping that I could get new ideas from my barely explored imagination, but there was nothing.
I carried on with my regular classes today, but when technology came I stayed until 3AM again. This routine went on for three more weeks. Exhausted now, but just about finished with my project, all I need is final touches. Nearing the end of the class year, we have 6 more days left of school and I haven’t heard one word out of Professor Harrington since he called me “loony.” Until today…
“Excuse me,” he began. “I don’t mean to interrupt but I have made a slight revision to the project. I have already said it needs to be creative and ingenious, but I would like to add something. I want your innovative projects to work. I want them to be usable, efficient, and able to properly run on their own without difficulty. I apologize for this last minute of new criteria, but what will your project be worth without the ability to use it? Carry on.”
I surveyed the room after his surprising announcement, not a single student was back at working. Everyone was frozen in place. Was I the only one who made something that can actually work? Well, could work?
Today should be the day then, it’s final. I travel back in time today.
I walked to the desk of Professor Harrington’s.
“Go back to work Daniella…”
“I wanted to tell you that I will be leaving.”
“I beg your pardon? Where will you be going?”
“Year 1921.”
He stopped his work, then slowly looked to me. His old tired face expressed confusion, disbelief, and astonishment. I couldn’t help but pull up a smile of smug happiness. His reaction was exactly what I had anticipated. His mouth was left open like he was going to try and say something, but no words came out. All he could manage was, “I wish you luck,” and even then, his voice was strained and cracked. Should I be afraid like he is?
I shoved the thought from my mind. ”No!” I demanded to myself. My machine is perfect, I know it inside and out and there are no holes in my calculations. I will go back in time and Professor Harrington’s reluctant response will not hold me back.
I want answers.
I walked back to my project strutting confidence and determination, but a small part of me was left behind at the chestnut desk. Though I may have looked proud on the outside, I could literally feel myself crumbling down on the inside.
What if it doesn’t work? Will my dream remain in my imagination? What if I never find the answers?
What ifs surrounded me everywhere, all suffocating me.
I laid my hand on the cold silver metal of my project and closed my eyes.
“Just think back to the dream,” I thought. “Review everything, every nut and bolt of the operation. Remember, remember the mission.”
The flow of my dream came back alive.
I was sitting in my wooden desk chair, clutching my gold cameo necklace, like my life depended on it. I was crying, I felt alone, I felt like I didn’t exist. I got up and walked around the dim lighted room, the project was sitting under a large green sheet, covered from dust. Then at my desk were piles of drafted blueprints. Drafts, models, equations, figures, and numbers were all sketched across each sheet. Slowly my dream was fading, everything wiped away clean, but I remembered.
“Daniella,” professor Harrington whispered behind me. “May I see you in the hallway?”
I followed behind him and I could feel everyone’s stares burning coldly through my back. Professor never takes his students out of the classroom. He says it disrupts the environment, and nothing will get done in class afterwards because of the distraction it causes. The first time I heard this, I thought it to be silly, but now I understand.
“I apologize now, but I have to know! What was the dream you talked about, why do you need to go back to year 1921? I don’t understand why it’s so important Ms. Daniella, I don’t. Are you really going back? Do you know if it will work? I think this is a very, very bad, dangerous idea. What were you thinking, a time machine! Really? Please, say something!”
“You’re the one who said you want our projects to work. I made mine capable of working before it was a requirement. I don’t see why this is a bad idea. I thought you would have been proud, excited, ecstatic even. Professor, I want answers just as much as you do right now. That’s why I’m going back.”
“Idiocy and genius are two awfully different things Daniella. What do you need to know so badly? Please, I’m worried for you.”
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I need to eventually tell somebody, right? Professor is trustworthy. It’s okay.
“It’s a rather long story, I’m not sure the hallway is an appropriate place for me to tell you everything. I can stay after class, I can tell you then.”
He looked unsure of the idea, like he couldn’t trust me.
“I’m not going anywhere until we have talked, okay? Don’t worry,” I reassured him. Without eye contact he gave a slight head nod and opened the door for me. The rest of class I sat at my desk and watched the clock. Slow minutes ticked by, and I even considered using my time machine to speed up class.
At last, the bell rang and class was dismissed. Before everyone had even left, Professor Harrington came to sit at the desk next to me.
“Explain,” he demanded.
“It’s a long story-”
“And I have the time, explain.”
Startled by his urgency, I began with the dream, telling him all that I could remember, which was extremely hazy. Then I started to share why the time machine was so important and why I want to go back.
“The necklace I was clutching in the dream, you see,” I said as I showed him the necklace around my neck. “I received it from a complete stranger when I was born. My parents were told to keep it safe, for it to never get lost. The stranger said it was expensive, rare, and incredibly special. They said that it will belong to me and I will soon know why. At the time, my parents were completely confused just as you were 40 minutes ago. But when I had that dream, it all made sense. I want to go back to figure out who is the girl on my necklace. That means finding the artist too, luckily he signed his name on the back and put the date it was made and where. I’m going back in time to find out why this necklace is so important, and why I have it now.”
“But how do you know your machine will work? You haven’t test run it once, and it all came from a dream.”
“I guess we will have to test run it on me now, and have faith my dream actually knows something.”
Professor looked away from me, he knew I couldn’t be convinced not to go.
“Would you like to help me?” I offered.
His eyes shot at me, but answered, “Grab your coat and tell me what to do.”
I smiled in return, obeyed, and got up to go to my project.
“Okay, so all you have to do is type in the date, December 16, 1921, and the destination, New York City, then press the green button when I say to. It’s that simple.”
He slowly began typing and I jumped in the machine. Standing on the white platform, metal surrounded me in a oval egg like shape.
I continued with directions, “You will know if I got to that date when the green button turns off. Then you’ll know when I’m coming back when the button turns from red to blue to yellow rapidly. You’ll also hear the machine start up again.” I then closed the machine door and locked it carefully.
“Sounds simple. You know, you were always one of my favorites Miss Daniella. It’s too bad that it has all come down to this.”
“Professor what are you talking about?”
“Thank you for making what I never could. I’ll take good care of it, don’t you worry.”
“What do you mean? Your making me nervous…”
“Have fun in 1921. Don’t get lost. It is a big city.”
“Professor?”
I began to try to get out, but the machine started this horrible motion, similar to spinning. Making me extremely dizzy, but I wasn’t moving. It felt as if all the walls closed in so tight that I was being crushed. I could barely breath and the atmosphere was intensely pressured. Like sand being turned into a pearl, or coal into diamonds. I was panicking.
But suddenly everything stopped. I felt light as a feather and very cold. I opened my eyes. The bright sun blinded me and it took some time to adjust. But I couldn’t believe what I saw seeing; it had to be a dream.
White snow blanketed the entire city. I was standing on a hill above New York about half a mile away. Seeing thousands of classic Ford Model T cars and taxis in many different colors flying up and down the streets. People everywhere, all going somewhere. It looked like madness but I fell in love with the city instantly.
So with cheers to the journey that will soon commence, I whispered in triumph, “I did it.” With my present behind me and past in front of me, I started towards the city.