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(A parable
of one I-V chapter's fictional future)
by Mike Kern
The car slammed to a
halt, nearly jumping the
curb. Leaving the engine running, the driver,
Mark McFlew, rushed to the front of the
downtown MacDonald's®. He
glanced at the window full of promotional
signs. "So far, so good! No fifty-five cent
burgers." Bending down by the newspaper
machine near the door, his eyes scanned the
front page for details.
"May . . . 25 . . . 19 -- 98!
Yes! It worked!"
Other students passing on the sidewalk turned
to look at the enthusiastic young man.
Pushing his light brown hair out of his eyes,
he sheepishly acknowledged the glances as he
headed back to the blue Ford Festiva. "I've
been waiting for graduation a long time," he
murmured as he got in and slammed the door.
"It's the right date -- but is it the right
time? The chapter's end-of-year party always starts around
seven." Maneuvering quickly around slower
traffic, he headed for the Mynar Student
Union. "This means it's not just science
fiction. Quantum Leap, Star Trek -- is it for
real?  I've traveled a year into the future!
Now I can see how to go back and make an even
better future."
Looking for a parking spot forced him briefly
back to the present. It felt like nothing had
changed as he headed up the union's front
steps and toward the meeting room on the
second floor. Pausing at the door, he
searched anxiously for a certain familiar
face -- his own. Not seeing it, he felt a
wave of relief and moved closer to the
students clustered by the refreshments. He
smiled as he noticed a more welcome familiar
face. A young woman with long black hair
headed Mark's way.
"Mark, you came," said Jan Lee, her
lackluster welcome accompanied by a
disappointingly polite hug.
"Of course I came. I'm the chapter
president."
"Emeritus, Mark. When you transferred out
before the school year, we had to get someone
to fill in for you. You can't lead a chapter
by e-mail you know."
"Transferred? But, Jan, I . . ."
"It's okay, Mark. We've discussed all that. E-
mails are good for that much. Remember that
transfer student from California who wrote
last spring? He'd been a chapter president?
He stepped into your role after you left.
I'll go get him."
Jan went back to the refreshment table. She
stood quietly to the side of the group. Most
of them were focused on a student with close-
cropped, dark hair. His wire-rimmed glasses
gave him the look of a young professor. And
yet his comments were punctuated by forceful
gestures, giving him more the manner of a
fiery southern preacher. Jan stepped forward.
He motioned for her to wait while another
student finished.
Standing across the room, Mark looked for
other familiar faces. Most were in the group
Jan was near. Mark turned toward the music he
heard, knowing he'd find Nikki at the boom
box. Nikki's eclectic tastes and interests in
world music had made her the chapter's
honorary music chairman. Next to Nikki,
Junias scanned the pile of CDs for his
favorites. Neither seemed to be really
enjoying the party.
Mark joined them. The story his friends told
was one of a busy year. Mark mostly listened;
he wanted to understand this new reality.
Staff visits to the campus had been limited
this year. The group's energy had focused
mostly on the many large events that had been
planned, leaving the leaders too exhausted
for much else. Junias had especially missed
the Bible study for leaders Mark had led the
year before.
Jan approached, and Mark saw that the
chapter's new president seemed happy to join
her -- too happy for Mark's taste. He felt an
unwelcome twinge of jealousy.
"Jonathan, this is Mark. Mark McFlew. I've
told you about each other."
"Glad to finally meet you . . . ," began Jonathan. But his
extended hand found only open air. Mark
scratched his head and looked down. "Uh,
sorry, but I have to rush off to find someone
else right away. I'll be back."
Looking around, he saw the chapter faculty
advisor, an older man whose gray hair made
him easy to spot in this group. "I haven't
seen Doc Green yet."
Doc was in a corner of the room talking to a
young woman Mark hadn't seen before. The
animated way Doc's hands flew as he talked
supported his mad scientist, physics
professor image. Mark was glad to hear Doc's
distinctive, near-perfect elocution again.
But he didn't have time to wait for this
conversation to end. He practically ran up to
the pair.
"Doc!" Mark interrupted, grabbing him by the
sleeve. "We've got to talk. I just came here
from -- "
"Seeing Jan," Doc finished for him. "We're so
glad you could make it back. Excuse me,
Angela," he said, pulling Mark quickly into
the hallway.
"No, Doc! I came -- " He paused to look
around the hallway. " -- from the past."
"I know that. Next time, though, we test a
shorter jump. I had to wait a whole year to
know if it worked. We thought you'd get to
observe what you and the chapter accomplished
this year. Instead, your time jump meant you
weren't here for the entire year. At first, I
couldn't tell if you really transferred out
last fall or if that was just a result of the
time shift. Once I realized what happened, I
had to explain your absence. I sent Jan e-
mail messages to explain your decision to
transfer. Your school e-mail account was
closed, so at first she assumed you were just
having trouble staying in touch. But now --
well, remember that from her perspective, you
haven't communicated with each other for a
whole year."
Doc felt he no longer had to hold back his
excitement. "Mark, our experiment worked. You
made it to 1998!"
"Yeah, Doc, we'll be famous," Mark said
dryly. "In the meantime, we seem to have
screwed everything up. People think I
transferred out. Not only am I uncomfortable
with that story, but now this Jonathan guy is
hanging out with Jan!"
"Mark, a lot's happened since 1997. We
thought sending you to the future would be
safer than your going to the past. You know,
less chance to screw up the space-time
continuum and change history. But the year
has happened as if you'd never been a part of
it. You and Jan aren't exactly close friends
these days. She's her own person, and in this
particular future -- "
"Doc!" exclaimed Mark. "Enough with the
temporal physics already. I've got to go back
and fix things. Nothing's the way I expected
it. You said when I got to the future, the
only thing I had to worry about was running
into the me that would already exist in
1998."
Doc turned away to avoid Mark's intense
stare. "It's not like I send someone to the
future every day, Mark. Anyway, it hasn't
been a bad year -- for the chapter at least.
The plans the leaders made for the year at
chapter camp worked out okay. We knew
Jonathan would bring leadership experience,
so he took on your role as chapter president
in your absence."
"He took over Jan, too, Doc!" Mark blurted.
That was a stupid thing to say, he thought,
but Doc's clinical matter-of-factness was too
much to handle. "And besides," he continued,
"this doesn't even feel like the same
chapter. Everyone seems either way too
intense or else totally disconnected. Did you
hear anyone laughing or really enjoying
themselves? Sure, we've been tired before by
the time spring arrived, but this is too
much. And Jan seems different -- and not just
because I disappeared on her. She wasn't as
lively as usual, even before she saw me. It
was like she was taking her cues from others,
rather than being herself."
Doc was pacing as if he was trying to solve a
complex formula without a calculator.
"Admittedly, Jonathan's style isn't as warm
as yours, but his consistent focus on the
basics of the faith has strengthened some
people who were stuck in neutral last year.
And the momentum from Urbana '96 just never
quit. All the different campus fellowships
have met together twice, and the racial
reconciliation day they sponsored drew over a
thousand students."
"Doc, those are great events -- but how are
the people in the chapter doing?"
"Easy, Mark. They're fine, more or less.
Well, at least steady, if not much else. Of
course, we all wish Steve could have been
here . . . "
"My roommate Steve?" A wave of panic surged
deep in the pit of Mark's stomach. "What
happened?"
"Mark, let's talk in this conference room."
Closing the door behind them, Doc sat down at
the long table inside; Mark kept moving about
the room nervously. "Steve never returned for
second semester, Mark. I'm sorry, but he
dropped out over Christmas break. Family
reasons, he said. He still won't return calls
or tell us anything more." From his jacket
pocket, Doc pulled out a still-sealed
invitation to the year-end party. 'REFUSED'
was printed in Steve's handwriting on the
envelope over his address.
Staring at the envelope, Mark realized he
hadn't been there for Steve this year. Would
things have been different? What more damage
had he done? And what good had he not done?
He stuck the invitation in his pocket, a
keepsake he'd rather not think about.
Doc Green coughed quietly as if to wake Mark
from a dream. "Maybe you're right, Mark. This
year could've been much more. Jonathan did
bring the organizational strengths the
chapter has needed. And he focused on good,
sound truth, but the group needs more than
just cold truth. The chapter has run more
like a precision instrument than a loving
community. Maybe what it lacked was the
example you provide in how to care for
people. We have to send you back to fix
things."
"But I might make things worse by messing
with the past."
"Mark, we already messed with the past when
we caused you to miss the whole school year.
If we return you to last spring, we could
create two futures -- this one with you
transferring and another with you as
president. I don't know if time has room for
two futures. Trying to fix everything could
risk it all. But we might be able to change a
few things and let the rest of the year play
itself out again. What if we sent you back
for the first few days of school? You really
have been planning to transfer out. You could
say that since your new school hasn't started
classes yet, you just came to help with New
Student Outreach. Then you can jump back to
this date and we'll know if you made a
difference."
"Doc," he said hesitantly, "How will I know
what to do to fix things?"
"I don't know, Mark. You'll have to trust God
more than ever before."
* * * * *
The Festiva slowed from the 55 miles per hour
it took to initiate a time leap. Mark had
plenty of power to run the time inverter, but
he always wondered if the aging car would be
able to hit the speed needed for it to
perform like a time machine.
Driving across campus in late summer, the
weather felt like it had back in May when
he'd made his first jump in time. But signs
for the Mynar college 1997 football season
told Mark the jump had succeeded. It was
fall, and he was just in time for New Student
Outreach. He only had two days before he'd
have to leave if he were to transfer schools
for real. What should he do to make a
difference?
Making the time jump in the empty stadium
parking lot had kept him close to the student
union. At chapter camp, they'd decided to
hold the concert for New Student Outreach
there. Parking nearby, Mark ran to the open-
air courtyard.
"McFlew?" Mark slowed at the sound of his
name -- and the voice. He recognized
Jonathan. "Mark McFlew, isn't it?" They'd met
only once -- in the future, yet he obviously
knew who Mark was now, too, but how? "I
thought you were transferring, McFlew."
"Yeah, I just thought I could help out a
little before I go. How did you know who I
was?"
"Easy. I got a copy of the yearbook and
memorized the names and faces of chapter
members. It's a little thing, but a way
leaders can let people know they're
important."
"And you're Jonathan, right?"
"Yeah, you read yearbooks, too?"
"Not exactly," Mark said. "You're not in this
school's yearbook -- yet. But I remember a
letter you sent last spring about your
transferring here." Jan would've handled the
correspondence. Jan! Mark tried to get past
the feelings of resentment he felt toward
this guy who might -- or might not -- get
close to her in the future. Inwardly, he
fired off a prayer of desperation: God, help
me not to assume that Jan belongs to me! And
help me to love this guy standing here in
front of me. "And it's an easy name to
remember -- someone who could be a good
friend. You know, like Jonathan and David."
"Yeah." Jonathan paused, studying Mark
briefly and perhaps a little quizzically.
"That's an important story, isn't it?" He
extended a hand to Mark. This time Mark
reached out as well. "But just remember,"
said Jonathan as they shook hands, "I'm the
one who's chapter president now."
"Sure," Mark replied, a bit stunned by
Jonathan's abrupt shift. "I'm just here for a
couple of days. But the offer still holds.
Any way I can help?"
"Actually, there is. We'll be meeting with
the chapter leaders soon to pray for
tonight's concert. Could you say something to
them about passing the mantle of leadership
to me? Since I'm new here, your vote of
confidence might help people be more
comfortable with me."
Mark agreed to go along to the meeting, but
thought to himself that Jonathan was putting
too high a view on his own role. Leading this
fellowship was a team affair, and Jonathan
would need more than Mark's introduction to
be a good leader. With only two days, Mark
couldn't be the friend Jonathan would feel
free to open up with. He wondered if Jonathan
had ever had that kind of friend. Mark
considered himself fortunate to have a
roommate like Steve as well as a staffworker
who allowed him to be honest about his
mistakes and struggles. They headed to room
305 where the rest of the group was waiting.
"Mark!" yelled Jan, getting up from her seat.
"I'm so glad you could make it."
A quick hug followed. At least this is a
warmer reception than the one I'll get next
spring, Mark thought, finding some humor in
the situation. "Lord, please give me a sense
that you're leading me," he breathed.
"And you've met Jonathan already," said Jan.
"Isn't it amazing how God already had someone
transferring here with experience as a
chapter president? I sure didn't sense God
calling me to the job."
"Yeah -- a real answer to prayer." Mark
watched Jonathan move around the room,
introducing himself to one person after
another. He was working the exec group like a
real politician. Or was he? Still fighting
feelings of resentment, Mark couldn't trust
his assessment. But even if Mark hadn't
"transferred" out, Jonathan would still have
transferred in. God, show me what your will
is in this situation, he prayed. For once, I
know what the future could hold -- like you
do -- but I don't know if that's really the
future you want for us.
Words from Proverbs flowed into his mind.
"Trust in the Lord with all your heart and
lean not on your own understanding. In all
your ways acknowledge him and he will make
your paths straight." Proverbs 3:5-6 had been
on an index card taped to his wall since an
aunt sent it to him early in his freshman
year. Now that was the most specific advice
he had to fall back on. Real life isn't TV.
This wasn't an episode of Quantum Leap. Al
wasn't about to appear in the time portal and
tell him that Ziggy the computer says there's
an 82 percent probability all will work out
if he just --
"McFlew! Who am I supposed to room with now?"
That booming voice and Steve's bear hug
jolted Mark back to reality. Mark tried not
to act like he knew more than he could say.
"I'm sorry, Steve. It was a decision I had to
make quickly. Hey, are you doing all right?"
What was it in Steve's life that could drive
him to leave school during the next few
months? Mark hadn't talked to him all summer.
He'd been busy in 1998 instead.
"Yeah, I'm making it. Thanks for asking.
Mom's starting chemotherapy this week. The
doctors are hopeful, though."
Bingo! That was it. Ever since his dad left
when he was twelve, Steve's mom had been his
best friend. Her death could devastate him.
"I'll keep praying for her, chief." Mark
paused, looking fondly from Steve to Jan.
"Being here, I realize how much I'm gonna
miss you both. I couldn't have made it
through last year without you." He paused,
searching for what to say next. How could he
encourage them to forge bonds that he
wouldn't be around to be a part of? He
pressed on. "Jonathan's got great experience,
but he's new to the campus. Being a chapter
president is not an easy job. Remember how
many times I had to screw up last year to
even begin to understand what I was doing? I
always knew I could tell you two I felt like
an idiot and you'd still love me. He's going
to need friends like you. And I have a
feeling you're all going to need each other
too. Don't let yourselves get too busy to
remember that."
"McFlew -- don't get all sentimental," Steve
shot back. "You're here to help ."
"Sure, Steve. But what's wrong with getting
sentimental? I remember what great times we
had at the start-of-the-year leadership
retreat last year. I'm sorry I had to miss
this one."
"You didn't miss anything," replied Steve in
a low voice. "In the transition this summer,
we thought it would be better to cancel it so
we could focus on the details of this concert
and the other activities. You weren't here
for that decision."
"Yeah, I forgot how much things have changed.
The retreat would have been a high priority
to me no matter what our plans were. You
know, I think the chapter's going to need a
high dose of caring community this year."
Steve and Jan stared at him as if they
expected more explanation. "Uh, hey, I'll be
right back. I want to grab a milk shake
before the meeting starts."
Once he got out of their vicinity, Mark found
himself out of breath. He still felt like he
had lost his best friend, and yet a new hope
was welling up inside. The 1998 party
invitation! Yanking the crumpled envelope out
of his pocket, he unfolded the piece of paper
from the future. Mark saw the word 'REFUSED'
fading out of sight, leaving only white space
above the address.
"Steve doesn't leave school! It worked!"
* * * * * |
