I hate cowboys. They seem so dumb and mundane. Reminds me of the joke where the little boy asks his mother, "Ma, do cowboys eat grass?" And she replied, "No, son, they're part human."

Don't know why I brought up cowboys. Gotta think of something, I guess.

I see the little tape still going round and round so this must be one of the few things still working. A good reporter always carries a recorder. Mine is one of those heavy duty ones. I got it from an older hack who traveled a lot.

Look at my watch!

Only twenty minutes left, twenty fricking minutes and then kaputs, that's the end of me. Lights out, forever, you know what I mean? God, I wish there was a God and a life after this one. It sure would be nice to wake up somewhere else. ‘Cause being here right now is no frickin' picnic!

'Scuse me while I hack up some of this phlegm. I could turn the microphone off but what the hell, this is my last recording, my opus endus, and since I won't have to face another editor, what do I care?

Where was I? Oh yeah. The old homestead in Ohio. I had some pretty good years back then, playing in the new subdivision, half full of mud and matchstick houses with no yards yet.

Wasn't so funny, though, in the winter when I had to trudge around on my bike with a heavy load of newspapers in the big basket in front. Sometimes, especially on Wednesday, that was the day they put all the advertising in for the weekend sales, the basket was so heavy I'd have a devil of a time steering. Turn just a little too far to the left or right and I'd risk spilling the bike and about forty papers. Did that too often, I did.

God, it got cold back then. My fingers would be red and sore from the cold. Couldn't wear gloves when I tossed the papers or I'd risk dropping it in the mud or snow. We didn't get any plastic wrapping to put our papers in back then. Cheap plastic wrapping hadn't been invented yet.

Cough. Cough

Damn, that hurt!

Wasn't always cold though. I remember playing with my buddy, Richard. We'd grab a few sticks with notches cut into them and pretend they were long rifles and we were Davy Crockett. Off we'd go into the woods, being careful to not alert any Injuns. Cause invariably the ones we met were not so nice. Had to kill them before they put an arrow or a tomahawk in ya. But we were good shots. Hardly ever missed, as a matter of fact.

Wonder whatever happened to Richard?

Excuse me, while I shift my weight around a bit. Buttocks are getting sore. The pain in my left hip is killin' me. Oh, pardon the pun. Didn't even notice that comin’.

Fifteen... No, make that fourteen minutes.

Ever notice how the clock moves so damned fast when you're running out of time but crawls like a sonofabitch when you have to wait for something?

Sorta hypnotic to look at it, though. There goes another second of my life. And another. And another. Shit! I gotta get off that.

It's spooky looking all around me. Dead in a big way. Nothing moves, not even a bird or insect. The sky looks normal, with some clouds with blue papered between them.

The building I am in, or should I say was in, is half gone. Only the walls remain and only parts of them at that. On one of them is the silhouette of a human, maybe a man or a woman, I can't be sure. Leaning over and trying to run somewhere. Didn't get very far though. Probably vaporized on the spot. Or maybe reduced to ashes and blown away in the maelstrom.

You may wonder why I'd remember playing Davy Crockett and tossing newspapers. Back then we were poor. Dad had just died and Mom had to work in an office someplace. My little brother and I had to help out. He was too young to handle money yet, so I had to collect for both of us. We shared a paper route. He got a nice row of trailers, all nestled close together and I got the subdivision with the houses spread out in neat rows.

One hundred and twenty customers, that I remember. Joey, that's my brother, had forty of them and I had the rest. It took him a half hour to drop his papers off, with their mailboxes all lined up in rows, whereas it took me almost two hours. You see, I couldn't carry all of them on my bike. Had to do it all in two trips. They didn’t want me crossing over their yards, either. Afraid I’d mess up their new grass.

Joey got the bigger tips too at Easter and Christmas. The little shit. Everybody said he was cute, while they called me the serious one with the big nose. I got even though. Mom said he was too young to collect and I kept part of his tips when I collected for both of us.

Don't know why I thought of that of all things. All that happened thirty years ago. Funny how I remember the darnedest things, sometimes.

Wish I had some booze with me. Sure would be nice to party in my final hours, when my liver doesn’t matter anymore.

Ya know what I learned in the dry-out classes? Another joke. What do the letters S-O-B-E-R stand for?

Son of a Bitch, Everything's REAL!

And it's too frickin' real right now.

Why the hell did I have to play with the buttons? Why couldn't I just jump to the time they had planned?

Had to be an adventurer, just had to frick with the time!

Look where it landed me. I'm not sure, to tell ya the truth. Certainly later than they had in mind. They said they had sent a robot forward and checked everything out. This trip for a human was supposed to be a piece of cake.

But no, I had to frick with the goddamned buttons!

Gotta get my mind off this. Gotta think of something else.

Yeah, the time I set the field on fire. Pasadena, back in the late 40s. I remember finding the matches in the laundry room of my dad's trailer park. A whole box of wooden ones, too. But they were damp, maybe 'cause they were in some guy's pants and got washed.

I ran to show Joey and we decided to see if they worked. So we went to the field next to the trailer park. Out of the way, where no one could see us. There was lots of straw around. The field used to have wheat in it.

Joey and I cleared an area around a clump of wheat. Didn't want the fire to spread, you know. Then we twisted the straw into a spiral sorta, so it would stay together and keep the fire going.

I struck the first match, but nothing happened. The wood stick broke. I tried again and held the end with my finger. This time it flared up. I put my hands around it in a kind of cup and lowered it to the straw.

Took off nice, too. Then it grew. Boy, did it grow fast. Too fast! We tried to stomp it out, but it kept spreading and spreading. Joey and I knew we were in real trouble. We got the hell outta there quick.

Took a whole bunch of fire trucks to put it out. Scared the shit out of us. I'll never forget that.

Cough. Cough.

Sorry 'bout that. Thinking of the smoke tickled my lungs again.

I remember a girl, blonde and shy, like me. Joey was a real lover. Could have any girl he wanted. Me, I was scared of girls.

Her name was Eileen and we "went together" for a long time before I even held her hand.

Then my stupid brother broke up with his girlfriend Maria and Maria took a fancy to me. Took my hand and we went behind the house. She kissed me. Wow. And I kissed her back. We practiced some more and pretty soon I was feeling pretty good.

We went back to the other kids, holding hands, and she bragged how I was such a good kisser. Made me show her in front of Eileen and everybody.

A week later, she tired of me. I tried to go back to Eileen, figuring she'd like me better now, what with all I have learned about loving. But she would have nothing to do with me. Cold shoulder.

I'll never forget that either. Took me five more years before I tried dating again.

I told ya I was shy.

Cough.

Blood. Where's a tissue or cloth or something? Shit, I'm coughing up blood now. Stomach aches like hell.

College, that was a time. I had always been a good student. Maybe from all those years of reading instead of socializing. Got good grades.

And met a coed in Sociology. Caroline. She was a couple years younger. Shy like me. But smart. I got up the courage to ask her to have a Coke in the student union.

One thing led to another and I grew up fast. She had a car and we used to drive out to a local cemetery and neck. I remember when we used to go there when it was snowing. We'd park in the back and kiss. It'd fog up the windows and no one could see in. That's when I got to feel her breasts for the first time. Wow! Was that wonderful!

We fell in love, naturally. Six months later, my needs got the best of my fears and I asked her if we could do it. She said yes!

Shoulda waited though. She was due to go to her doctor and get on the pill in a week, but that was too late.

I had to get a job on campus washing dishes so we could get an apartment. Got married. That fall, little Michael was born.

I remember holding him in my arms in the hospital. Something really big happened to me then. I had a real responsibility now. This little tiny baby, with dark reddish skin and a head of black hair, with the little itsy bitsy toothpick fingers - was my son.

Somehow we managed to get by. I graduated and got a better job working in the small college town newspaper office. Was the best I could get with a journalism degree. Caroline stayed in our apartment to take care of Mike.

I tell ya, there's not much happening in a small town, even if there is a college in it. Most of the time I typed up the reports of other reporters from their handwritten notes. I was the only one of the bunch who could type fast enough so I was stuck in the office, playing secretary.

That was not my idea of a fun life, I'll tell you.

Cough. Cough.

Can't feel my toes. Feeling nauseous too. Pardon me, but I gotta upchuck. You'd think they'd have a wastebasket or something in this little capsule. I don't think I can hold it much longer.

Oh shit!

Whew! That stinks! Got some on my pant legs too.

Reminds me of the time Caroline and the kids brought me back from a night of pizza and beers with Joey and his family. Had too much to drink.

Caroline was driving me home when I got the urge to vomit. Couldn't tell her in time and barfed in the back seat. Boy, was she mad! I told her it came on me too fast to ask her to stop the car. But she didn't believe me.

You see, our marriage wasn't doing too well.

My wages as a reporter for the Warren Herald didn't provide for my growing family much better, it seems, than when I was back in that college town. We were always poor.

Always fricking poor.

Cough.

I'll bet when someone plays this recording back they're gonna ask: why didn't I just reset the time on this time machine and go back to my own time?

Don't think I didn't try. It was my first thought after I realize I was in trouble. The alarm on the control panel blared and flashed a real clear danger warning. Then died.

Like everything else in this damned tin coffin.

After I got done screaming and swearing, I noticed my hands. Red burns. There isn't any mirror in here, but I guess my face looks like that too. I touched my cheek but it hurt too much so I pulled my hand away.

A Geiger counter dial was stuck with its needle in the red zone. Far into the zone. I bent over and read “20 min”. So I had only a short time left to live.

As I was going forward in time, I think I passed through a nuclear blast. That's what knocked out this machine.

Watch still works though. It was a gift from my Mom. Old fashioned kind with a spring. Thank God something works.

Cough. Cough.

My lungs don't hurt so much now when I cough. But there's more blood.

I wonder what year it is.

God, it stinks in here! I’ll try to open the window.

Ow! Damn! Hurts my hand too much.

Why the hell did I have to do such a stupid thing?

I remember watching the others walk away talking to themselves after they had explained how the time machine works. I wondered what it would be like to travel to the future. What marvels could I report back on if it were me going?

And stupid me, I had to get it in my head to actually get in the frickin’ thing. Guess I thought I'd become famous as the first man to use a time machine. Maybe then we could get some money and have a real life, like everybody else.

My heart pounded in excitement and fear. There was a guard. I peered inside, looking like I was taking notes and before he could stop me, I jumped in and slammed the door.

I heard them screaming at me as the others came running back. Couple of them slammed their fists on the glass windows too.

But I was too busy fastening the seat belt. Then I tapped my fingers on the control panel to select a different time and lifted the small lid over the control switch like they had explained.

I looked up at the window and watched their angry faces screaming something at me. I couldn't hear.

I grinned and flipped the switch.

And landed here, somewhere in the future. I expected I'd be in the same warehouse but it was open to the sky. No other buildings. No trees. No houses. Nothing but stumps of walls. Reminded me of an archeological dig where they find an old town, but just a few broken down walls remain.

That's when the damn alarm went off and I panicked.

Cough. Cough.

Jesus, it stinks in here. And my skin burns like hell.

Gettin' kinda dizzy. Head hurts too. This is one helluva migraine! Grabs me between the eyes and squeezes like it’s gonna pop my head open.

Don't know how much time I have left. Can't focus too well. I'm not even sure my watch works anymore.

All I wanna do is close my eyes and go to sleep. This is gonna be the biggest sleep ever.

I'm sorry, everybody, for all the shit I did to you, each and every one of you.

I’m sorry, Caroline, for not being a better husband and bringin’ home bigger paychecks. I didn't really mean to hurt anybody. I was just thinkin' of myself and tryin’ to get by.

I'm sorry, son, but I won't be able to help you grow up. I hope you don't mess up your life like your dad did.

I'm sorry, Mom, for being naughty. I promise I won't play with matches again. Ever.

Cough. Cough.

It’s getting dark. And awfully cold. Like the old days, only this time I won't wake up in a warm bed. I won't wake up anywhere. Or anywhen.

I just wanna go back in time and be a little boy again, and start all over!

Maybe even be a cowboy...