Exit Part 5

Buenos Aires-- the name meant 'good wind' in Spanish, as the city was a popular destination for people resetting their timekeeping devices. Exit had never been to Buenos Aires before, but only stumbled once as he stepped off the Knotleaguer's gangplank. The air was so fresh that he almost had a concussion.

Tim stepped down beside him. "Something wrong, Exit?"
"Oh, I'm okay," said Exit. "I just got a funny feeling that I haven't been here before."
Captain Loophole sidled up grinning. "Ho yes, I believe the term is 'pas vu jusqu'à maintenant'. S'not supposed to be eerie, though." Captain Loophole probably would have said more, but he had a concussion and sprawled face-down on the dock.

Exit grabbed Captain Loophole's arms and Tim grabbed his legs. "Stop grabbing my legs, Tim," said Exit.
"Sorry, got confused there," said Tim. He grabbed Captain Loophole's legs and together they carried him to the nearest establishment-- Motel Barato. Each room cost just fifteen cents, so Exit paid for three, only discovering later that they were all the same room.

After depositing Captain Loophole on the motel bed, Exit turned to Tim and nodded. "Want to go look around the town?"
"Sure," said Tim. "There are a lot of good places to not eat down the road."
"Perfect. I just spent our last forty-five cents."
"This air is pretty fresh stuff, though, innit?"
"As you say, Tim."

Exit Part 4

Exit sighed and picked up his bucket as Captain Loophole scrambled back up the ladder to the steering platform. Captain Loophole’s ship, Knotleaguer, was not the biggest or best, but it did have almost nothing special about it. It had been built in the year 2201 using the most modern of techniques, and was made not of wood, but of a synthetic compound that looked, smelled, and felt exactly like wood, and had the exact same structure down to the atomic level. Captain Loophole had paid extra for creak. The sails were likewise on the cutting edge of technology, one of many products produced after the invention of cotton cloth, a monumental discovery that had taken place in the midst of a series of strange disappearances and murders of museum curators. Captain Loophole was always one to try things that had never been tried before, so it was with pride that he sailed Knotleaguer in what once were the seven seas, but became the nine seas for indistinct cartographical reasons. Every day wasn’t filled with adventure, but there were some that weren’t.

            Tim and Exit scrubbed the deck as they did every day. It was a monotonous task made more interesting by the oddities of the wood. Exit was fascinated by the swirls and spots painstakingly formed on the synthetic planks. He called over to Tim. “There’s a splotch here that looks like South America.”

            Tim set his bucket down and sidled over to examine the mark. “It looks a bit like a splotch on a bit of wood.”

            Exit hadn’t considered that before. “Yeah… a lot like it…”

            “Spitting image, almost.”

            “Excepting that wood doesn’t spit.”

            “Doesn’t have to, the image is doing that already.”

            “Hold on a moment, that is a splotch on a bit of wood. Something can’t just look like itself!”

            “How’s that?”

            “You’ve seen the catalogs, Tim. You even bought that pair of trousers.”

            “Now when you put it like that…” Tim broke off, gazing out across the water. “What’s that in the distance?”

            “Looks like… um…”

            Tim’s eyes lit up. “Looks like a splotch on a bit of wood.”

            Exit nodded. “There you go. Hit it on the spot.”

            “That’s South America, fellows!” yelled Captain Loophole. “We’re landing in Buenos Aires before sundown!” The ship creaked and rocked as he fiddled with the wheel. “LAND HOOOO!” Tim upended his bucket on his head out of excitement. Buenos Aires was known best for one thing: being the capital of Argentina.

Exit Part 3

"Wake up, Exit! This ship won't clean itself!"

            Exit groaned and rolled out of his bunk and peered around for the source of the wakeup call. Tim, who slept on the bunk above, was already dressed and standing by the door to the four-man cabin they shared with two other ship cleaners. Exit rubbed his eyes. "I just had a dream that I was in a coma."

            "That's just called sleeping, isn't it?"

            "Well, there was swing dancing involved... I think." Exit stood up and walked over to the dresser.

            "Now when you put it like that..." said Tim.

            "Something about a fish," mumble Exit as he pulled on his shirt.

            A few moments later, Tim and Exit emerged on deck, blinking in the sunlight. Captain Loophole was striding heavily to and fro across the creaking wooden steering platform, sails snapping in the wind above him. It was a while before he noticed Tim and Exit standing next to the mast, looking up at him. “What do you think you’re doing?”

            “Waiting to receive cleaning materials, sir,” said Exit, who considered saluting, but didn’t.

            Captain Loophole took off his tricorn hat and ran his fingers through his hair. “Ah yes! Where did I put those… ah yes.” He climbed down from the steering platform and seized two buckets. “Now watch carefully.” Captain Loophole took a few steps forward, holding up the buckets. “The buckets have now covered half the distance in their journey towards you.” He took another step forward. “They have now covered half the remaining distance.” Another, smaller step. “Half of the remaining half distance.” A small shuffle. “Another half.”

            Tim looked apprehensive. Captain Loophole was almost touching noses with him at this point, buckets still held high above his head. Captain Loophole turned to face Exit, then looked back at Tim again. “If I keep covering a half distance each time, what does this mean?”

            Exit had never studied Calculus, and neither had Tim, so there was an awkward silence before Tim mumbled “we never get the buckets and we don’t have to clean?”

            Captain Loophole shrieked with laughter as he flung the buckets down at their feet, sloshing water onto the deck. “No! It means one! Either that or you don’t exist! Now get to work! Hoo hoo!”

Exit Part 2

"We'll need you to sign here, Mrs. Exit's Mother."

            "I won't sign to pull the plug on my son's life support!"

            "I'm sorry, but there's no other option. You're bankrupt."

            "What about health insurance? We've been paying health insurance for ages!"

            "I'm sorry, Exit's insurance is voided by cause of him being injured." Exit opened his eyes as light flooded his vision again.

            "He's awake!" screeched his mother.

            "He's awake!" squealed the nurse.

            An old man on crutches poked his head in the door of Exit's hospital room. "He's awake!"

            "What happened?" asked Exit groggily.

            The old man spoke up. "Well, I used to go swing dancing when I was younger..."

            Exit's mother interuppted. "Not to you, to him, Frank! You were taking Melanie out on a date..."

            "Well, there's this one dance venue, lovely little place," the old man continued.

            "And you went to supper and had asparagus for the first time," said Exit's mother, glancing at the old man.

            "'The Fabulous', I think it was called."

            "It turns out you're allergic."

            "Either to swing dancing or to asparagus, but I was always nimble on my feet, you see..."

            "And when you were driving Melanie home..."

            "Who's Melanie? Anyways, nimble, but I had a nasty fall, you see."

            "And there was an accident."

            "I'll say."

            "You were in a coma. You're lucky to be alive."

            "So am I."

            Exit was still confused. "What happened to Melanie?" Exit's mother looked uncomfortable as she took a matchbox off the bedside table and placed it in Exit's hands. As he began to open the box, the room began to shake and the world dissolved again.

Exit Part 1

Exit was not actually always not an extraordinary boy. He had been not extraordinary Exit in the future, but was ordinarily not extraordinary Exit now. He was lying on his bedroll when an horn sounded. It was a while before Exit realized what it meant, that is to say, an. He was in the past, but that was impossible, so he was in the present in the past.

            With this realization, Exit sat up in his bed, which was a roll. He was lying, but actually now sitting in a field. Exit suddenly realized what a great opportunity he had. "Two plus two is fo-, I mean three," he said. Now he was lying while sitting in a field. Exit lay down again. "Two plus two is three." He was lying while lying, and... he looked around but there were no soap-making materials, so he sat up again.

            Exit was wondering what to do next when two men with pikes jogged up to him. "What are you doing here?" one asked.

            "I was doing maths..."

            "Don't you realize that Gustav and the Swedes are invading?"

            Exit had not realized it. "So you're here to defend Germany, than? I mean, then?"

            The second man sighed. "No, it's halfway through the thirty year's war and we've lost our taste for battle." He rested his pike on his shoulder as the first man spoke up again.

            "Yeah, we're just trying to sell these fish. Fresh caught, only three marks." He held out his pike for Exit to inspect.

            "There's not much meat on these," said Exit.

            "Course not, what're you supposed to eat on Fridays?"

            "People'd have our hides if we sold fish with meat."

            "Nine out of eight doctors recommend..." Suddenly, the world filled with light and went dark again. Exit began to hear new voices.